


A Crocus in the Snow

by Lizardbeth



Series: A Seed in Barren Lands [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, F/M, Loki Has Issues, Norse Big Bang, Norse Bro Feels, Odin's Parenting, Parent Frigga, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 55,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2460314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Sif are on a quest to stop a war, but the true struggle is not with Malekith, but with the shadows of the past. In Asgard, Loki's family must deal with difficult revelations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - ASGARD

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NorseBIgBang 2014 (and is complete, will post in installments). 
> 
> Beautiful cover art by Magnacrack/Ju'McLia
> 
> This is the direct sequel to [A SEED IN BARREN LANDS](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1042529). You should read that first. 
> 
> also, please be aware that this fic deals with the aftermath of past child abuse.

* * *

 

 

" _The crocus sprouts in early spring, blooming above the snow.  
The flower must withstand sudden storms and bitter frost, else it withers and dies_."

 

**ASGARD - the past**

 

Many years later, Frigga would not understand why this was the only scream she heard. She'd never heard any of his other distress, only this one, long after it was too late. But on this ordinary day in the spring of her sons' lives, with the sun so brightly shining that it seemed impossible that anything terrible could happen at all, she heard it.

She'd never heard that sound from Loki before, but she knew immediately it was him. It reached straight inside, wrapped an icy tendril around her heart, and squeezed the breath from her lungs. It must have been his fledgling abilities touching her, in some unconscious reflex to call for help. She was on her feet and at the door before she remembered she had been speaking to two other women. "Apologies," she blurted and darted out to the corridor.

Ordinarily she would never have run through the palace, but some cold dread touched her, an awareness that something was terribly wrong.

She raced past the Einherjar at the side door, gathering them behind her, and Thor joined her. "Mother?"

"Your brother," was all she had to say and Thor ran with her to the stables.

They ran straight into a scene of horror. The horses were whinnying, beating the sides of their stalls, while in the central aisle, Tyr was holding the bleeding stump of his arm, shouting, "I'll kill you! I'll cut your throat, you foul creature! I will see you **dead** , monster!"

Black fur bristling, and teeth bloodied and bared in a vicious snarl, Fenrir confronted him. Behind the great wolf, Loki was huddled against an open stall door, arms wrapped around his middle, while he stared at Tyr and Fenrir.

"Fenrir, down!" Thor commanded. Fenrir didn't listen. "Mother, stay back!" He tried to get in front of her, but he was still too young to be trying to protect her, and she pushed him back.

"Loki!" she called, but he seemed not to hear or notice. He was shaking violently, but she couldn't tell if he was hurt, too, or only frightened.

Tyr's mangled hand was in the straw at Fenrir's feet, and the wolf's bright golden eyes fixed unrepentantly on the weapons-master as if he would take the other hand, if Tyr came one step nearer. Tyr must not have had a weapon, since she could see no wounds on Fenrir.

The two members of the Einherjar next to her approached, activating their lances. Fenrir's gaze flicked to them and he growled, muzzle still wet with blood. He took a step back, toward Loki, to keep all of his attackers in sight. He would fight and might turn on Loki.

"Everyone, back away," she ordered. "Einherjar, fetch a tranquilizer. Tyr, you need to go to the healers."

"The beast--" Tyr spat in fury.

Odin's voice cut in, startling Frigga with his sudden arrival, "--- will be dealt with. Tyr, go."

Tyr managed a bow of his head. "My king." But he glared at the wolf. "You should never have taken that **thing** in."

In an act that seemed a reply, Fenrir narrowed his eyes and licked at the blood on his muzzle in threat.

Not taking his eyes from Fenrir, Odin ordered, "Thor, back away slowly and go inside."

"But, Father--"

"Now."

Thor looked so anxious for his brother Frigga wished she could ease him, but she felt much better after the Einherjar had escorted him and Tyr away. The nearby horses calmed down, too.

"Fenrir, down," Odin ordered. The wolf did not heed him, and when Odin took a step nearer, Fenrir growled again in warning.

"The beast has gone feral," Odin said, recovering his step, as Fenrir's yellow eyes followed him. "I must slay it." He lifted Gungnir, but she shook her head.

"Wait, Fenrir is guarding Loki as his prey and may turn on him if he's attacked and hurt. There is a tranquilizer coming. That will be much safer."

He lowered his spear in agreement. "Loki, remain still," he called, and Loki did not seem to hear him either, but he didn't move.

Odin said to her, not taking his eye from Fenrir, "And you said the beast was tame."

She felt ill with remorse. "He was. I thought."

"Tyr always believed Fenrir was too dangerous for Loki to keep."

"He's been obedient since he was a pup!" she objected. "Not a hint of violence."

"And yet…" he trailed off meaningfully, indicating the scene before them. And she had to concede, this was far more than she ever expected. Perhaps her gift of longevity to the wolf to keep him as a pet for Loki had driven him mad, in the end. Or perhaps Fenrir had grown dangerously attached and possessive of Loki, so that no one else could approach him.

"Stay calm, Loki," she called to him. "Be still. We'll be there for you soon."

It was only a minute or so, and one of the guards raced up with a tranquilizer lance.

There was a hesitation and confusion as the Einherjar did not know who should take the shot, risking Loki's life, but Odin grabbed the lance and yanked it from their grip, holding Gungnir in his left, and the lance in his right. "I will do this myself."

He approached Fenrir two steps closer, keeping the wolf's eyes on him. She bit her tongue to keep from voicing her wish for him to be cautious. Odin had hunted many dangerous beasts in his day, including winter wolves, and though he was older now, he was still powerful and skilled, distracting Fenrir first with a blast to his left and then with Fenrir's neck exposed, he fired the tranquilizer bolt into the wolf.

Lightning crackled across Fenrir's fur, and he howled in pain and frustration. He turned to look at Loki and took two steps toward him. Frigga's heart skipped a beat, fingers tightening together, as she hoped Odin would not hesitate to blast Fenrir if he came much closer to Loki. But Fenrir's paws stumbled and he swayed, shaking his great shaggy head. He collapsed and whined, before the yellow eyes sank shut.

Odin's boot pressed on Fenrir's head, keeping it against the ground in case he roused again. "Einherjar, bring muzzle and chains," he commanded. "Frigga, he is down. Tend Loki."

She rushed across the floor to kneel at his side. "Little love, it's over."

He started violently when she touched him, but when she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer to her, he burrowed his face into her hair as he had done as a much smaller boy. Long coltish legs spread akimbo were unable to fit on her lap, but she tightened her embrace, as he trembled violently and gasped for breath.

"I'm here, love, it's over," she reassured him, whispering comforting words into his hair as she smoothed a hand against his narrow back. She checked him for wounds, relieved when she found none, though his tunic was torn at the collar. "It is well, Loki, you are safe now…"

It took a moment for her to realize he was whispering something, over and over again, broken by his sobbing breaths, "I won't, I won't, I won't--"

"Hush, my son, hush," she murmured and stroked his hair as he slowly fell quiet. "It is all ended, you're safe."

His giant aqua eyes lifted and met hers, seeing her for the first time. "Mama?" he whispered. She couldn't remember the last time he had called her that, it had been so many years ago. Hearing it again broke her heart, and she kissed his forehead and embraced him tightly.

"Yes, darling. You're safe," she reassured him again. He burst into tears, clinging to her gown. "Oh, Loki, little one, it's alright now, you're safe and it's all over…"

She held him, smoothing his hair with one hand to make sure he didn't turn his head to see as the guards picked up the mangled hand and the unconscious wolf and carried both away.

"I assume since you did not carry him to the healers he is unhurt?" Odin asked, coming to stand above them.

She looked up at him. "Unhurt, but terrified."

"It is good he was unhurt." Odin's fierce eye rested more softly on Loki, still crying but more quietly now, and the king's free hand extended as if he would touch Loki's head, but he pulled his hand back. "Bring him inside when he is ready."

He turned and walked away, and for a moment, she wished fiercely that he had finished the gesture. He had become less physically demonstrative as the boys had gotten older, but that he would not even touch Loki's hair to comfort him after a horrifying day when his beloved pet had violently attacked him and his teacher, seemed wrong.

She tightened her arms around Loki, and rubbed her cheek on the top of his head, as if she could make up for the lack herself. "Hush, my dear, it's all over. Take a deep breath now."

He calmed, hiccuping as he sniffled, but didn't pull away from her, still clinging tightly as if he didn't want her to go away.

"All will be better soon, sweetling," she murmured, "Fenrir is caged and soon will be put down…"

She hadn't expected him to be listening to her words at all, thinking only to soothe him with her voice. But at the last, he jerked straight, nearly slamming his head into her chin. "No!"

"Darling--" she started in confusion.

He interrupted frantically, "No, no, you can't. Don't hurt him!"

She frowned. She'd meant to reassure him, but he looked panicked again, clutching at her arms. "My dearest, he's dangerous."

"No, no, he's not. He's my friend!"

"He attacked you and Tyr. There must be some sudden madness overtook him--"

"No, he didn't!" Loki protested. "He didn't hurt me."

She touched the rip in Loki's collar, but decided not to contradict him. Loki was traumatized by what had happened, and not thinking clearly. She kept her voice soothing. "He hurt Tyr badly. Fenrir bit off his hand, Loki. That's the act of a feral animal, not a pet. I should never have let you keep him in the first place. What if he attacks you next?"

"He won't, Mama. He's my friend."

"A friend doesn't bite off your teacher's hand, my son."

"But he - he did it for me," Loki protested, voice shaking, trying desperately to find a story he could think of to save Fenrir. "It wasn’t his fault--" His voice caught on a sob. "It wasn't-- Please don't hurt him…"

Frigga tightened her embrace and kissed his head. "Oh, little one, I know you love him and I'm so sorry it has to happen like this…"

"No, no, no!" He struggled free from her arms and tore off running, fleet footed, and ignored her cry of his name.

By the time she found him, Loki had climbed to the top of the high wall surrounding the courtyard where Odin had ordered Fenrir chained. Frigga's breath caught, seeing Loki balancing on the top of the delicate metal filigree, trying to find a way down and inside.

"Loki!" she called. "Come back down at once!"

He glanced at her, set his jaw, and shook his head resolutely. He jumped down from the wall, disappearing within. She gasped, fearing that wall was too high for him to jump, and she ran to the doors. "Open them."

They obeyed her, where they would not open the doors for Loki, and in a moment she was rushing inside. Fenrir was muzzled tightly, a heavy collar around his neck that bound him to a post driven into the earth though he was still heavily tranquilized, his eyes were closed. Despite that, her heart still jumped to see Loki kneeling beside him. He was trying to pull the collar off. "I'll save you, I'll save you," he whispered. "It'll be okay, Fenrir."

When the collar proved too much for him, he moved to inspect the chain and where the chain was connected to the post, tugging just as futiley at it.

"Loki," she called to him. "You need to stop."

His imploring eyes met hers, the chains falling from his hands. "You can save him. Please."

"Nothing can save him, darling."

"No! Please!"

Odin appeared, Freyr at his side with his battle axe. "What is the meaning of this? Loki, what are you doing? You were forbidden entry for a reason!"

Loki swallowed hard and climbed to his feet, favoring his left as if he'd hurt his foot in the jump. "Father, please. Fenrir is my friend."

"He bit off the weapons' master's hand, Loki. In a vicious attack. He is a menace and will be put down," Odin ordered.

"No! He did it for me!" Loki protested.

"Why?" Odin demanded, glaring at him.

Loki stared at him, pale and silent. Then, eyes downcast, lips quivering, he murmured, "He hurt me. Fenrir was trying to protect me."

"We will not have this discussion again," Odin declared with a curled lip of disgust. "If you trained better and with more attention, you would take no hurt."

"But that's not true! It's not!" Loki saw his protest was getting no traction with Odin and changed his story, looking up at Odin and swallowing, "He did it because I told him to do it! I was angry at Tyr and I ordered Fenrir to do it. It's not his fault! It's mine. I did it! It's my fault!"

"I will hear no more lies designed to save your feral pet from what must be done. And I find it appalling that you would shed all these tears over your dog and none for your teacher. You will watch as he is put down."

"No, please, please, don't hurt him!" Loki flung his arms over Fenrir, draping himself across the giant wolf's body. "No, I won't let you hurt him. He did it for me! It's not fair!"

"Einherjar, pull him away," Odin commanded. "We will put the creature down now."

"No, no, no! Let me go!" Loki struggled to escape the guards' hands as they seized his upper arms and one hauled him with an arm around his waist. His legs kicked out, flailing, but the guards' held him tightly as they pulled him away. His voice rose to a wordless, hysterical shriek, an alarming sound more like a wounded animal than boy.

Frigga hurried to him. "Release him!"

As soon as they let go, Loki collapsed to his knees, bent over so far his hair brushed the ground. His narrow back shook as he sobbed uncontrollably.

"Move him," Odin commanded. "This entire unseemly display will end now."

Frigga knelt to gather Loki back into her arms. "Loki, hush. Little one, calm down…" As she soothed him, she frowned. He was so overwrought. Was this all for Fenrir? Remaining anxiety for the attack earlier?

His frantic sobs eased into gulps against her shoulder. "There now. Take a breath. Another."

Very aware of the group watching her and Loki, including Odin and his disapproving scowl, she calmed him down as quickly as she could. His breaths were still unsteady when he lifted his pale, tear-stained face, and she wiped his cheeks with the edge of her mantle.

She helped Loki to his feet, keeping an arm around his back to support him when he hissed at touching his hurt foot to the ground. Odin commanded, "We will take care of the animal now. Hold him so he sees."

She was appalled. "He is distraught. I should take him from here."

Odin gripped Gungnir in a tight fist and his eye looked baleful on Loki, who was staring at Fenrir. "A great warrior of the Realm was viciously attacked and mutilated, and I will not abide the prioritizing of this creature over one of our own. He watches and he learns. Freyr, whenever you are ready."

"No, no, please," Loki whispered in stricken futility. Frigga held him against her, arm around his chest. "Fenrir, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... This is all my fault..."

She smoothed his hair with her other hand. He tensed as Freyr's ax lifted, blade shining.

Frigga slid her hand down over Loki's eyes so he wouldn't see the deathblow. Then, when it was done, she let him bury his face in her chest and she held him tightly. Odin looked thunderous at her defiance, but she returned the look. There was nothing he could do about it now; he could not kill Fenrir again. This was a day already terrible enough without forcing Loki to witness his friend of decades butchered before his eyes.

"Remove Loki," the king ordered curtly. "He will stay in his room to think on this appalling spectacle and what is right."

"Come, sweetling," she murmured to Loki and tried to draw him away without looking. But he turned his head to see what was left and the blood on the stones. He turned pale, a whimper in his throat.

He said nothing as she coaxed him away to take him to his room. His hands were cold and he sat on the edge of his bed at her urging, gaze vacant and withdrawn. He didn't move when she ran a hand over his hurt leg to check for serious injury. His ankle was overstressed from landing improperly, and she noticed there was some bruising at his back and arm, perhaps from falling hard against the stable door. But there was nothing that would not heal soon.

He sat there and made no sound, a quiet that made her uneasy when he normally filled any silence with his chatter. But out of respect for his grief and shock, she didn't try to make him speak. She took off his boots for him, as if he was a much younger child, and settled herself beside him.

It took a few minutes before he stirred to lean against her arm. When she lifted her arm to let him get closer, he curled up on his side, head on her leg, while she smoothed his hair. "It's going to be all right, my son. Just give it time."

He lay with his head in her lap, silent and dry-eyed, and when she had to leave to go to dinner, he stayed in his bed and stared at the wall.

A week of Loki in moody isolation passed, broken only by her visits to coax him to eat a little and bathe. But when she was told something had crashed in his room, she forced the door and rushed in. The side table carved from a single piece of crystal lay in shattered pieces to one side, as if he'd thrown the entire table into the wall.

"Loki, what happened?"

"It broke," he muttered sullenly, not looking at her.

She wanted to berate him for breaking treasures but clearly that wasn't the real problem. Grief did often turn to anger, something no doubt not improved by his depressed moping in his room. "You know you can leave?"

"Father didn't say so."

She had to grant that was true, but Odin hadn't said anything about Loki's exile to his room at all, and a week was far more than he could ever have intended. "He meant that day, when he was angry. He had to be the king and make it clear to the people that he protects them."

Loki stared at the shards of the table, and said, "Protecting Tyr."

"Right. Fenrir, sadly, went feral and mad, and attacked Tyr. We had no choice, sweetheart."

"I don't want to see him."

"Tyr? He's not in the city. He left to recover on his lands to the east."

"Fenrir should have killed him," Loki muttered.

"Loki!" she drew back in shock. "Why would you say such a terrible thing? It isn't his fault Fenrir went mad."

"Yes, it is. It's his fault! Fenrir was trying to help me. Why does no one understand that!"

She held back a sigh, trying to be patient. "Loki, I do understand. But what you need to understand is that Fenrir went too far. He proved himself just a feral creature--"

Loki flinched and she stopped talking, realizing this wasn't helping. She said instead, "Would you like to go walk by the shore? It's a lovely day outside."

Loki shook his head and for a long moment stayed silent. Then he murmured, looking down, hair hanging in his face, "Is there something wrong with me?"

Frigga frowned. "Something **wrong** with you?" she repeated, shocked by the question. "Of course not. Why would you ask that?" He shrugged and then hunched his shoulders, still upset.

She reached out and brushed a lock of his raven-black hair back from his face. His hair had gotten long enough to start to curl, and it was quite an unruly mess. "No, there is nothing wrong with you," she reassured him. "You're grieving your friend. And I am sorry that we had to take him away. I know it hurts that he's gone. But we have to put our sorrows behind us." She rested her fingers lightly on Loki's narrow chest. "Hold the good parts of Fenrir's memory in your heart, but put the past in the past where it belongs. Mortal things will always trail behind us, Loki. It's a sad truth that we keep going, and we have to leave things we love behind us. That's why you need to treasure those who will be with you throughout your life. Like your brother and your friends. Thor said he misses you."

"He's in the next room," Loki muttered. She smiled a little, glad to hear a little spirit from him.

"He said he misses you two playing together. And I bet you would feel better if you weren't shut up in here alone."

His eyes fell. "I don't want to play."

"Why not?"

"I don't care about his stupid fighting. He only wants to spar, or- or wrestle or play baby games. I'm sick of it."

The tone edged on petulant, and she reminded herself he was still sad about Fenrir, so she kept back her smile. "Maybe if you tried a little fun, you might have some?" she suggested and smoothed his hair again. "Just try something. Be brothers. You'll feel better."

He didn't look at her as he nodded acquiescence without any enthusiasm, humoring her. She felt uneasy suddenly. Was this only about Fenrir? Why would he ask her if there was something wrong with him? While it could be embarrassment for how he'd over-reacted in front of his father, it also might have something to do with the truth of his heritage. Perhaps he'd had some hint of it…

Frigga hesitated. "Little love, is everything… all right? You would tell me if there was something else?"

"Of course, Mother," he answered. He looked her right in the eye when he said it, and since he had no reason to lie to her… she put her unsettled feeling aside and smiled at him.

She lifted her arm and gestured him to come sit next to her. He perched on the edge of the bench, and he held himself still when she laid her arm across his shoulders. Then he relaxed against her, letting her embrace him. "I know this has been tough on you, Loki. I know you miss Fenrir. But everything will be better. It's a memory now, and the sooner you put it behind you, the easier things will be. Do you think you can do that? Put it behind you?"

He considered and then nodded, pale eyes seeming very somber. "I can do that."

His smile was hesitant and false, but she smoothed his hair in approval. It was a good start to return to normal, and soon the whole sad mess could be forgotten.

* * *

tbc...


	2. SVARTALFHEIM

**SVARTALFHEIM - _present day_**

  
  
Sif knew they were there, somewhere close. She could feel the beady little Dark Elf eyes watching her from just out of sight. Trying to catch them, she kept turning quickly, but there was nothing there. It seemed impossible they could hide in such a barren landscape of dry scrub, black basalt and volcanic glass, but they did.  
  
When she would have tried again to catch sight of them, Loki grabbed her wrist. "Don't. They have shroud glamour around them. All you do is look foolish."  
  
She gritted her teeth. "Can't you break it?"  
  
"I could." He let go when she tugged at his grip. "But I'm trying to end a war, not start one," he reminded her. "As soon as someone identifies me and passes word to Malekith, we will meet our watchers soon enough."  
  
"Are they all around us?" she asked in a low voice.  
  
"Now they are, yes." He didn't look, but answered with certainty. "I count eleven, keeping pace at fifteen meters." He turned his head to lift a brow at her. "I did warn you this was a dangerous place."  
  
It was not the danger she objected to, but the sneaking. The elves hid on the edge of her vision; she knew they were there, but like wraiths, they vanished when looked at directly.  
  
To try to take her mind off the annoying feeling of eyes on her back, she asked, "How did you plan anything with him in the first place? We've had no contact with Svartalfheim since King Bor's time."  
  
He snorted once, mocking her naïveté. "So Asgard believes. Malekith has been in contact with many of Odin's enemies, over the years, those within Asgard and in other Realms as well. I first heard of him from…" he paused then let out a short laugh. "Laufey. Ah, the irony."  
  
The queen had told her that Laufey had been killed trying to assassinate the king. Sif wasn't sure where the irony was, but decided this wasn't the time to ask.  
  
Loki chuckled once more, to himself, and continued, "They had made an alliance, though it came to nothing. They were two old warriors with a lot of talk and anger about how they'd both been wronged, but they could do very little. That was," he hesitated and let out a long breath, gaze flickering with memory, "why both of them were so eager to fall in with my plans. I could offer them a way to finally achieve their vengeance. Of course, neither of them looked at the price as carefully as they should have. No one ever does, when they think they have what they want."  
  
He said that a little too heavily, as if he meant the words for himself, too. He fell quiet, thinking, and she prompted, "So when did you come here?"  
  
His glance suggested she should know that for herself. "After I fell."  
  
"When we thought you were dead." That still stung. When he had let her think he was dead - not just his family, he had let her believe he was dead. He had let her believe all sorts of terrible things, and some of them had even been true. She shook her head.  
  
"When I rather unexpectedly continued to live, I had to do  **something** ," he said lightly and shrugged.  
  
"So you came here to make an alliance. With a Dark Elf who's hated Asgard since before Odin Allfather even took the throne?" she asked incredulous. "Why in the Nine Realms would he listen to you? Why wouldn't he want you dead?"  
  
Loki's step paused. "Because I'm not Aesir, Sif."  
  
"What are you talking--" She started impatiently but fell silent and grimaced. She'd forgotten that his blood was not Aesir. "Oh. Of course. So you told him?"  
  
"He had to believe why I was angry." He bent to pick up one of the chunks of black basalt, tossed it once in his palm, before hurling it to the side as if he didn't care where it went. Sif, who knew perfectly well that he could throw a dagger with pinpoint accuracy without watching it hit its target, watched the rock herself, waiting. There was a faint scrambling sound near where it landed as one of their watchers had to scoot out of the path. Loki's lips flickered with a brief smirk, before the humor died away. "It wasn't entirely my idea. But planning my vengeance with one who hated Odin even more than I did, seemed like a good plan. At the time."  
  
She wondered whose idea it had been, but that wasn't the important part. "But that was before Midgard." She frowned at him. "What, your grand plan was to rule Midgard and then join Malekith in destroying Asgard? Except that wasn't going to work and you knew it."  
  
He glanced at her and shrugged. "The grand plan was that I told him about the convergence and he would attack during it. If I happened to be a prisoner on Asgard he would free me, but if I was ruling Midgard, I would join him."  
  
"And if you were dead?" she asked quietly. Because they both knew that had been the most likely outcome of his 'plan'.  
  
His grin was an unexpected response. "Then I'd have my vengeance after, wouldn't I? There was no bad outcome, that was why it was perfect."  
  
Hearing him refer to a war on Asgard as 'perfect' was unsettling. "Except for the death and suffering."  
  
"Says the Lady of War," he mocked her and she nudged him.  
  
"Hey. Good paths. Remember?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Jesting. This place is dark enough without you being dour, Sif."  
  
She eyed him, disapproving of his sense of humor. But she was not so distracted she missed when the air twenty paces in front of them rippled strangely then glowed as a Dark Elf unshrouded himself back to visibility. Black and silver armor, white hair, and a helm that contained a mask that hid the facial features, the warrior said nothing at first. Sif put a hand on her hilt but didn't draw.  
  
Both she and Loki stopped, and Loki held out his hands at his sides, empty. "I have come to meet with Malekith."  
  
"You are Loki of Jotunheim?" the Dark Elf demanded.  
  
Sif only knew he reacted to that because she felt his arm twitch where they were touching, otherwise his face and voice were smooth and calm. "I am," he answered. "And my companion is Lady Sif of Asgard."  
  
"Asgard," the warrior hissed at her, "is not welcome here." She glared at him, daring him to draw a weapon on her and did not lower her own hand.  
  
"She's with me," Loki returned, his tone a level calm that suggested the warrior not argue with him. "If you would escort us to Malekith, now, I need to speak with him."  
  
"The witch stays here."  
  
Loki took two steps toward the Dark Elf, his gaze like ice and voice now dripping with menace, "I killed four the last time your kind tried to play games with me, and with her at my side, we'll kill a lot more than that. And still we will both go on to talk to Malekith. So why don't you be cleverer than you look and take us where you were already told to?"  
  
"Loki, we're trying to be friendly," she cautioned him.  
  
"If he stops being a fool, I can be friendly. But this is gamesmanship and I will not play with the likes of this moron." He started past the Dark Elf warrior. "Take us to Malekith or get out of my way."  
  
The Dark Elf seemed to have no authority to actually stop Loki, whose action forced him to scurry on ahead, saying nothing in a sullen silence, as he led Loki and Sif onward.  
  
To ease Loki's clenched jaw and glare, Sif nudged him and leaned in to tease, "You killed only four? Were you not feeling well? You should have taken more than that."  
  
His glance was offended, but she saw the amusement there. "I still needed an alliance," he objected. "And there were more than a few of them."  
  
"Six? Ten?" she taunted.  
  
"One hundred twenty-four." He smiled sourly at her surprise. "Let's say that Odin Allfather was not the first king I've been dragged before, in chains. Though at least Malekith took them off when he learned who I was."  
  
There was an angry tightness in his voice that worried her. She touched his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He gripped back then pulled free, to walk ahead.  
  
She looked at his back as he strode with outward confidence, but she knew it was an illusion, masking emotions that were still tangled and laced with darkness and anger.  
  
But they climbed a low rise that proved to be a lookout area over a deep valley. Bleak dark grey stretched as far as the eye could see, tree-less wasteland rising to distant smoking mountain.  
  
The valley was dominated by a giant tower. Shaped vaguely like a hammer, it was a deep obsidian black, outlined in scarlet and white lights, and it looked like it belonged under the sea, like some ancient creature that should exist only in the deep a million years ago.  
  
It was not what she expected for a land so broken and empty, its people supposedly so shattered they hadn't caused trouble for five thousand years.  
  
Its lower point was set into the ground, with small building lumped around the base, and from here, she realized the small figures in the tidy rows were thousands of silver-and-black armored warriors gathered near it. It wasn't a tower at all; it was a war ship.  
  
"Oh ancestors, that… is immense."  
  
"At least he hasn't left yet," Loki muttered. His eyes turned to her and he asked, "One last chance for you to take the path to Asgard. Once we get inside I won't be able to send you back."  
  
She ordinarily would be incensed at anyone offering a chance to flee from trouble, but he made it with little expectation that she would accept and managed to make it charming. "Did you think I would leave you here? Now?"  
  
He couldn't help a brief smile at her skeptical question. "No, but I thought I should offer. They have no love for Asgard inside."  
  
She thought about a hundred Dark Elves who had taken him for Aesir before hauling him to Malekith, and knew he was probably speaking from personal experience. But then she thought of might happen when he started talking peace, whatever his blood, and she shook her head. "I stay with you."  
  
"Mind that you remember I asked you," he advised, drily, then inhaled a deep breath. "Come, Sif. The army gathers, we have little time."  
  
He headed for the path that wound down to the valley floor, and she followed.  
  
[  
](http://lizardbeth-j.livejournal.com/558222.html#cutid1)


	3. ASGARD

Frigga looked up curiously as Odin dismissed her attendants and warded the door against eavesdropping with an absent gesture, his attention clearly distant.

She frowned when he turned and she caught his expression. He was highly bothered by something, even distressed.

She set her hairbrush aside and rose. "Is something amiss, my lord?" She kept her tone more formal, not certain she actually cared whether he was troubled by something or not, when he had so little care for her trouble. He had restricted her from visiting Loki and though she had sent notes in her books, she had managed to project her image only three times through the ward. It was not enough. It infuriated her that Odin had given up on Loki so easily, and that he punished  _her_  and hardened Loki's heart against them.

"Frigga," he said but his voice halted, strangely uncertain. His head was down, and he leaned heavily on Gungnir.

"Are you well?" She didn't go closer. As wife and queen she wondered whether he was ill, but the part of her that was a mother kept her distance. If he wanted her mercy, he could find some in himself first.

"No," he answered softly. "Frigga, I--" he stopped again and then declared, "I learned something. A secret kept from both of us. I would shield you from it, if I could, but you need to know."

She frowned at him. What could possibly be so terrible as make him look this way?

"Sif is with Loki. They rekindled their relationship of old." He shook his head.

She wanted to smile - it had always been adorable how they had thought it was a secret -- but then it had ended for no reason she had ever understood. But Odin had subtly disapproved of Sif and Loki, wishing she'd match with Thor instead, and she frowned at Odin, stating as neutral-voiced as she could, "I cannot agree that is a terrible secret. Nor do I require shielding from it."

Odin's eyebrows flared in surprise as if that were the last thing on his mind. "Sif? No, that is not the secret I meant. That was a favorable thing to discover." He hesitated again, glancing away to gather his words again to explain. "When I went to free her from the confines, Loki was defiant and angry as expected, but then, in the grip of upset and temper, he revealed a truth from when Fenrir still lived."

Her heart was suddenly uneasy. Fenrir's death had changed Loki. He had held his true heart and thoughts closely after that, resentment already curdling his spirit. Yet she knew of nothing from before Fenrir's death that could make Odin so troubled.

Odin continued, "For the first time, he held Gungnir and allowed me to see his memories and thoughts, and I found out… Tyr…" Odin's voice dropped away to nothing and had to start anew. "Loki was telling the truth, Frigga. Always. When Tyr broke his arm it was no accident. It was a  _test_ , a test which I failed, because I believed Tyr over Loki." He drew pained breath. "Somehow he knew of Loki's true ancestry. All that time while training… Tyr hurt him. Nothing that would not heal, but to… torment him."

She listened in growing horror. "He hurt Loki? Deliberately." Her voice would barely emerge from her throat. "So Fenrir was trying to protect him? As he said?"

Odin nodded once, face creased in pain, and shut his eye. "There is more and worse."

That was impossible. "Worse? Worse than knowing our friend betrayed our trust, and harmed our son in cruelty?"

He couldn't answer, throat working on words he couldn't speak at first. "You should sit," he advised.

Worried by what could possibly be  _worse_  -- though she hoped perhaps it was something Odin found worse, but was not -- she seated herself on her vanity bench and waited.

Odin inhaled a deep breath and continued. "Tyr harmed him in a way we have not seen here in Asgard in millennia," he said hoarsely, and could not look at her. "He not only struck Loki but forced him to -- to abase himself to Tyr. Intimately."

Her blood turned to ice as she understood the whole terrible truth, shock stealing her breath and her fingers went numb. "No. He -- Tyr -- he forced himself?" she asked in a whisper. "On a child? On  **my**  child?"

Odin nodded once, barely enough to be visible.

"Loki... But -- why didn't he say something? To me? I would've believed him -- I would have -- "

"He feared you would reject him."

"No! How could he--" she protested.

"He felt ashamed. After Fenrir was killed and Tyr could no longer threaten or force him, Loki tried to pretend none of it had never happened."

"No," she whispered in futile denial. "No, ancestors, this... I cannot breathe." Her heart felt leaden in her chest and refused to beat in her distress. "Oh my child." So much became clear then, as though a muddy distant image snapped to cruel focus. His buried rage and broken trust stemmed from monstruous abuse and parental neglect, adults who had taught him all too well that he didn't matter and that violence and manipulation were how things worked. No wonder he had never wanted anyone to have power over him again.

Odin put a hand on her shoulder, meaning comfort, but she squirmed out from under and rose to her feet. "Don't touch me," she hissed. "This is your fault. How dare you act surprised and horror-stricken by this when this would never have happened if you had cared from the start. This is not the only example where your contempt for Loki let others treat him poorly, only the worst. They all took their cue from you -- even Thor felt free to disrespect his brother. It is no wonder Tyr thought he could get away with evil, when the entire Realm has done nothing but treat Loki with derision."

"Not so!"

"Is it not? Tyr took advantage of your neglect and your contempt - that you would not believe your own son - and let Tyr treat Loki as his  _whore_."

Odin flinched back from her harsh voice and she pursued him, shaking with fury kept so long behind her queeenly façade - for she had been just as neglectful, ignoring a problem she had known about. She had let Odin overawe her instinct, when she had known something was wrong with Loki. It had not been just a moody boy growing more sullen in the wake of his pet's death. A bright mischief had turned dark, happiness into the pretense of it. It was a façade built on the illusion of contentment, except when it cracked to reveal a growing dark rage simmering beneath, a buried pool of resentment against everyone who had let it happen.

"Frigga, I know!" Odin protested. "Do you believe I could share in his memories and feel his emotions and not know?"

"I don't know, could you?" she retorted. "But I will tell you what you will do - you will no longer bar me from visiting my son. And then I will have justice for him, if I have to duel Tyr myself."

She headed for the door, emotions a muddled wreck of sorrow and guilt and anger, halted by his voice. "He's gone."

She stopped and turned slowly. "Where?"

"In the joining, he revealed he had set a plan in motion with Malekith of Svartalfheim to attack us during the convergence. I let him go to undo this plan; Sif is with him on Svartalfheim."

She couldn't bring herself to care about the plan or the attack, when Loki was not below. She gripped the edge of the archway with fingers that still felt cold. He was not in Asgard anymore. She couldn't go down below and embrace him as she wanted so desperately to do.

"He left a letter for you in here, scribed previously." Odin withdrew the book of poetry she had given Loki in his cell and he held it to her. "And he said to tell you he regrets his words to you, that they were not true."

 _I know that, child. I knew it when you said them, when they were so transparently born of hurt. But I did not know how deeply the hurt goes, or how little I deserve your forgiveness when I failed to protect you_.

Her hand shook as she took the book, and she thumbed through it, looking for a letter to fall out, as she headed away from Odin to read the letter by the window. But then she saw it, not written on a separate sheet, but in the margins, his scrawling hand across most of the pages. There were some scratched out parts and a few pages removed as if they revealed too much, but enough for her to read.

 _"If you are reading this then I am gone. Perhaps away, perhaps dead, but I think it matters little. There is but one path left to me now, and that path has only one end. So I will write a farewell, even while I wonder why I bother, because I cannot confess all my secrets. But I will confess one: I wish you had despised me. I wish you had loathed the very sight of me near your real son, and you had told me you took me in only because the Allfather required it. That would have smothered the fire quicker. I tried to let the void and other things put it out, but a flicker remains when you are here. I want to see you but I hate it, too, because it draws out the inevitable. But I know, you will stop coming. He or Thor will prevent you, or you will forget. The darkness will close in, and I will have only old memories left to prey on me. Hate breeds hate, and pain breeds pain, and in the end, that flame will go out and I will finally be rid of that boy who was your son. That foolish boy didn't understand that he is a thing of winter, not of summer. The fragile flower in the snow was always fated to be killed by frost._ "

She shut the book, unable to read more. She knew now what these words avoided saying, the tapestry he embroidered all around while leaving the image empty. "What did he do?" Frigga asked in a faint voice. "Tyr? What did he do?"

Odin shook his head once, resisting. "You do not wish to--"

"What did he do?" she interrupted fiercely. "How-- how far did he go? How long did this go on that our son was tormented under our eyes and we knew  _nothing_?" she demanded in anguish, tears burning her eyes again.

"Frigga." He approached her and drew her against his broad chest, and this time she let him hold her. "There is little he did not do," he answered, his voice a rumble under her ear. "He was cruel and limited only by his need to keep Loki silent and not visibly harmed." His hand settled on her head, smoothing her hair in a soothing caress, gentle for all his usual severity. "But do not force yourself to hear the details. They are mine to share in penance for what I never did for him. You gave him comfort, let that be enough to know."

She closed her eyes and wished that helped. She shook her head once in denial, clutching the little book to her chest. "But what I imagine is so terrible…"

"There is nothing you can imagine as terrible as the truth," he murmured. "It will not give you ease."

Her heart caught in her chest at those words, and she bit her lip. "My poor darling," she whispered. If he could endure, so must she. Inhaling a deep breath, she found strength enough to pull away. She dabbed her eyes with the cuff of her gown and inhaled a deep breath, to center herself back to calm. "There must be justice, husband."

"There will be," he promised. His grip on Gungnir tightened and he looked into the distance. "It must be public, but I know Loki would prefer his name not be disclosed. So the truth will stay between us," Odin declared. "None other shall know."

Her head came up at that. "None? Thor should know."

"He will know his teacher is a monster, and why, but why should he know of Loki's shame? Loki has no wish for anyone to know, especially not Thor."

She wanted to agree, to shield Thor from this knowledge. To shield Loki from his brother's pity as well. To protect the entire palace from Thor's fury at Tyr, no doubt. To follow Loki's wishes. But none of that was a good enough reason.

"Sif knows. We know. How can we, in good conscience, keep the the truth from Thor that his own  _brother_  was Tyr's victim?" she asked, and Odin demonstrated his discomfort with the question when he stepped away, refusing to meet her eyes. "Thor needs to know. I know Loki wants this all forgotten again; I know that, because I was the one who taught him that is what we do." Her voice broke on that. She had coaxed him to pretend nothing had happened, to put the death of Fenrir behind him, never knowing she was telling him to hide the whole terrible truth. She had told her son to lie about what was most important; so of course he had decided that truth was malleable and unimportant, and of course, he had built a façade of what he'd thought everyone wanted.

"But we cannot," she added. She raised her face to Odin and asked, "Have we not seen what is wrought by secrecy? Has there not been tragedy enough sprouting from ignorance and deceit? We can't protect Thor from this truth, nor should we. He still holds an image in his heart of Asgard as a flawless place, strong and pure, but he cannot rule wisely if he believes Loki is the only one to ever mar it." She said the last with deliberate, biting precision, meaning to strike at Odin as well, for being the one who held that belief first.

"Frigga…"

"Am I supposed to pity  _you_?" she returned sharply, her eyes burning with tears of both grief and fury. "If I must suffer my regrets for all I failed to do, then so will you. You thought our son such a monster -- always you assumed he would be a monster, and never sought the truth of his deeds or his anger. And never once suspected a greater monster put him on his knees to learn hate and shame."

When Odin jerked back at her words, as if she'd struck him with a sword, she knew her words were more factual description than she had meant. She had to put a hand to her chest, in a vain attempt to protect herself from the pain of the image of her boy kneeling on the cold tile of the practice room at Tyr's feet. Back then, Loki had been sapling thin, eyes big in his face that had begun to lose its childish fullness and take on hints of the sharp adult features he would attain, and a mop of black hair that would not be tamed no matter what she tried.

He had been no match for Tyr, full grown in the height of his maturity. A large and strong warrior of great renown, in times of peace Tyr had become a trainer of stature. And now she had to wonder whether he had become a trainer, not for the honor of training the next generation of warriors for Asgard, but because it allowed him to access and harm the children he was supposed to defend.

She was going to be sick.

Light-headed, she clutched at the door frame, as the room dipped in and out of focus. "Did he -- did he do this to others? Prey on other children in his care?" she asked in a whisper.

"I know not. Sif was spared, and Loki knew of no others. It may be that his knowledge and hate of the Jotunn caused it to be a singular occurrence, but…" he hesitated, barely able to spit out the words, "… I will know when I require him to hold Gungnir."

"Yes," she agreed. Letting the wall hold her up, she leaned against it and closed her eyes to settle her stomach and her seething emotions. Anguish for her son, rage at his teacher, guilt for her own blindness -- all of it warred within her heart. "If Loki is not here, you must not carry out sentence on Tyr without him. He must see it."

"Should we not spare him the whole sordid matter? He is distraught, remembering this," Odin said. "To finish it before he returns seems a kindness..."

She shook her head and straightened. "No, in this, he must see it and know it's ended. In fairness, husband, you forced him to watch Fenrir be put down, it is right that Loki see Tyr be put down as well."

Odin grimaced and his hand tightened on Gungnir's haft. "If he had only told us the truth…"

"He did," she reminded him. "He told us Tyr was hurting him. I remember he told me several times and then… he stopped. Because I didn't help him. I told him little hurts were to be expected in training. I told him that was what warriors did." She moved to her dressing table to look in the mirror, wishing she could alter it to speak to her younger self. Her voice softened, addressing more that phantom younger queen who had thought she knew how to raise her sons. Yet despite her good intentions, she had managed to fail one of them so utterly he had fallen to madness, evil, and death, because he no longer cared for anything or anyone, including himself. "I told my son it was  _expected_  that warriors would abuse and terrify those weaker than themselves."

"Frigga, no, do not torment yourself," Odin said. "Loki knew you were ignorant of what was truly happening."

She grabbed the edge of the table, skin of her fingers turning white with the strength of her grip. "Yet he didn't tell me. He did not trust in my heart," she whispered. "For all our closeness, even while we shared our magic, I sensed nothing of this. He held it away from me, as I kept the secret of his heritage from him."

She looked at her hands, remembering how she had comforted him. But that closeness she had believed they had shared had been an illusion, too. Had he sensed she was keeping something from him, and was that why he had distrusted her? "This is our doing. All of this. Without us, without our foolish secret-keeping, without our inability to truly  _listen_  to him, none of this would have happened."

"He made his own choices--"

She could not hear that, not now. She spun around to confront him again. "Do you  _remember_?” she demanded furiously. "Do you remember how he was? He was clever and curious and he was  _gentle_. He loved to laugh and learn; he brought me flowers. He  _cried_  when he stepped on a beetle in the garden. And we heard nothing, saw nothing, as our servant burned all that innocence to ashes."

The cleverness had remained, but the gentleness that had leavened it had faded, and his laughter had lost its joy, turning mocking and bitter.

"He made his own choices, yes," she agreed, after a moment. Her whole body was exhausted now, as the rage rushed out of her like a tide and left her with nothing but bare sand. Her knees felt weak and she let herself fall to the bench. "Based on the knowledge that strength is prized, compassion is weakness, and the truth is punished or ignored." Choices to try to kill his own brother, to try to destroy an entire race, war, and death. All terrible choices, and all tied to this one deep shadow in his heart. "Do you not understand? When he found out the truth of his heritage, he knew that Tyr had always known, that Tyr was  _right_."

"He was never right," Odin corrected swiftly.

"You and I know that, but do you believe Loki capable of parsing that difference?" She gestured to the little book now sitting beside her hairbrush on the top of her vanity table. "A 'thing of winter' he called himself."

"I know." Odin shook his head in sorrowful agreement. "His ancestry and these memories have grown entangled into a bitter self-loathing," Odin confirmed softly. "I felt it in his thoughts-- he would carve his own flesh from his bones if he thought it would rid him of this taint he feels. Sif is helping, I think, but it is in his soul and not so easily healed. We may yet lose him."

She shut her eyes, willing herself not to cry again. Loki would need her to be strong, not to fall apart.

Odin seated himself on the bench beside her, Gungnir held in one hand while his other reached slowly toward her hands, where they were clasped in her lap. He gave her time to move her hands if she wished, and when she didn't, he laid his atop, his grip still strong even if his hands were now more aged than in her youth.

"But he is not lost now. When he could have chosen rage and darkness, he chose to make amends," he offered quietly. "And he knows I care for him, when before, he believed that I hated him." He shook his head again, sorrowful at the misunderstandings that had worsened over time. "I have my own amends to make with him. Even if he may never forgive me."

She couldn't reassure him that Loki would forgive him, but she leaned her head against his shoulder that she at least would. She could not keep her anger at him, when she knew she was at fault as well. "Will he take this chance? Will he come home?" she whispered.

He didn't answer right away, which was an answer itself, but he stirred to speak. "He carries so much anger within him, so much doubt and hurt…"

"But surely now that he and Sif are united again--"

"She will try. She insisted he take her with him, when he would have chosen to go alone. And Sif is formidable. But whether it is enough to sway him, I doubt he knows that himself."

She nodded her reluctant agreement. Loki was a clever tactician, but he and Thor were alike in that they both decided things emotionally. Loki was smart enough to rationalize his decisions, so they seemed reasoned to him, even if they had not been. Right now, in the grip of such violent emotions, she wouldn't blame him for deciding to stay away from a place that reminded him of so much pain.

Except she needed to embrace him, to touch his face and smooth his hair and reassure him that never,  _never_  would she reject him.

She straightened, "I'm going to contact him."

"Are you sure that is wise?" he asked. "If he is negotiating with Malekith…"

As if she cared about  _wisdom_  at this moment, when she had just learned that her son had suffered unspeakably. She managed to answer calmly, "He will tell me so. It will not take long, and I… I need to reach him. Send to Thor to join us, and we will tell him the truth."

She stood, animated by new strength. At the beginning of this adventure of his, Loki would know that she was waiting for him and that finding out the truth changed nothing of her love for him.

In her adjoining work room, she approached the fire pit. Svartalfheim, as a different Realm, was much farther than his prison cell, and if he was behind some shield of Malekith's, Loki might be impossible to reach altogether, but she would try.

At first, it was difficult to calm herself enough to call any power at all. But she closed her eyes and breathed, centering herself with the ease of long practice. She held out both hands to the quiescent flames, and they rose up in a column of green and gold fire. Staring into the curtain of fire, she sent forth her will along the channels and threads, seeking that familiar presence. As Loki's first teacher in the arts, the connection was long-standing and, when he was not hiding it from her, not difficult to find.

She traveled along it, inching nearer, and mindful of Odin's warning that Loki might be distracted with Malekith or even a battle for his life, she reached out to that brightness ahead of her, glowing so brilliantly, and tapped it.  _'Loki. My son_.'

He was surprised. ' _Mother_?'

She had her own surprise when he didn't push her away, and instead pulled her nearer, tightening the connection. He was too far away for her to see anything but a wraith-like impression in the flames, but he seemed calm and determined.

' _I needed to speak to you. To reassure you that you remain my son. Always. There is nothing you did or could do that will change that. There never was_.'

He hesitated, considering uneasily what she knew. He didn't commit to the truth, hoping that Odin had not yet told her what he had learned. Instead he referred to their previous encounter and said, ' _I should not have said you were not my mother. I spoke carelessly_.'

In truth, he had spoken with a great deal of care, recognizing that if he denied Odin as his father, logically he had to deny her, too. He'd been cutting himself away from anyone with any claim on him. ' _I understood why you said it. And I understand better now. The Allfather told me what you shared with him, Loki_.'

He knew exactly what Odin had told her, and the reaction was instinctive-- he tried to slam the connection shut between them and shove her away. But doggedly she held it. ' _No, Loki, stop. You cannot pretend or ignore it anymore._ '

He froze, giving in with such abruptness it was alarming. And even though the connection was open, he pulled back from her and hovered on the edge as far as he could. Everything about what she sensed from him was suddenly colored with pale orange of shame and violet of fear, colors that felt like illness of the soul. He _believed_ she would tell him he was vile and that he should never come back to Asgard, now that she knew.

She reached out for him trying to comfort him.

' _My son, never. It breaks my heart to know how you were suffering all that time, and I knew nothing. I am so sorry, my darling, that I was not a better champion for you. And I wish you had told me, and that I had listened, and_ …' she had to pause and calm herself again, as the connection threatened to slip her grasp. ' _But most of all, right now, I want to hold you tight and never ever let you go. Please, my son, when this is over, come home. Or, if you would rather go elsewhere, tell me and I will come to you. Wherever you are. Just please, **please** , I beg you, do not disappear. I could not bear that again, fearing your death and not knowing. I want to prove to you that none of this changes my heart, and I cannot do that if you vanish_.'

He didn't respond for a moment, feeling the weight of his thoughts, but she sensed the fear fading, as he was starting to believe that she would not cast him away, even if the shame remained. He promised quietly, ' _I will not disappear. If it is possible, I will see you again. I swear._.' Then, he added, ' _Mother_.'

Her heart swelled at the word, spoken with deliberation to emphasize he would not make the same mistake.

His head snapped up, gaze fixing on something out of her awareness. ' _I must go_.'

With surprising skill, he not only shut the connection between them but in less than a heartbeat, he had dispersed the threads as well, leaving her staring blankly at the flames in her room on Asgard with not a trace of his presence left. He was gone.

She inhaled deeply and let the fire die back to embers. At least she had done what she could. He might still break his promise to see her again--Loki meant his promises when he gave them, but he thought little of breaking them later. But she felt better for making sure he knew that her love still held, and nothing his father had told her had changed that.

* * *

tbc...


	4. SVARTALFHEIM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (though this usually goes without saying with my pseudo-canon-AUs, fair warning that these Dark Elves are rather differently developed to the MCU versions)

* * *

* * *

 

 ****  
The great warship seemed to get bigger the farther down the path they went. They had not yet reached the valley floor when Loki stumbled. Alarmed by this strange gracelessness, Sif glanced at him, as his hand seized her arm to keep himself upright. His head was down but she could see that his gaze was glassy, seeing something far away in his own head. His lips moved as if he might be talking, but she couldn't hear any of the words, and faint expressions passed over his face, quickly suppressed. It was some sort of magical sending, though she hadn't seen it happen to him in a long time.  
  
Trying to walk without drawing attention, he kept his feet moving, his grip on her upper arm tight so she could guide him. The group reached the bottom of the path and the Dark Elves gathered around them again. Loki lifted his head sharply and blinked himself alert again. One of them poked Loki with the tip of his spear, and Loki turned an icy glare on him to make him step back. But after, Loki seemed troubled, frowning, and crossed his arms as if he felt cold. She frowned and whispered, "Are you well?"  
  
He nodded once but didn't explain, flicking his eyes in the direction of their escorts meaningfully.  
  
So she held her tongue, too, though she was a little sorry that he had relinquished her arm. The grip had been tight, but a welcome reminder that they were each other's backs in this place.  
  
The ship loomed high over their heads, as Sif and Loki crossed the featureless, flat plain, with their escort of a dozen Dark Elf warriors. The army made way for them, opening a path to what seemed to be some sort of launch facility at the base of the great ship.  
  
Large doors at the bottom slid aside for them, into an dark room, lit only by a stripe of glowing red all around them at eye-level. When the doors closed again with a thunderous slam, they were left in the near darkness. Suspicious, she put a hand on her hilt again, waiting.  
  
Her eyes adjusted allowing her to see the warriors who had come in with her, six of them, but they'd lost their previous escort leader. That meant they were getting a new one.  
  
Loki affected a lack of concern about their situation, keeping a faint smirk on his lips as he waited. She couldn't reach that level of pretense, and settled for pacing.  
  
The inner doors finally opened. Another Dark Elf appeared, this one taller and larger than the others and he wore no mask, so Sif knew he was a leader of some kind. Her guess was confirmed when Loki didn't treat him with the same contempt he'd given the footsoldier and instead greeted him by name and a short nod. "Algrim."  
  
Algrim saluted him with both fists to his chest. "Prince Loki." Algrim's voice was deep and his eyes were a bright blue as his gaze cut to Sif. "You bring an Aesir?"  
  
"She insisted," Loki said, glancing at her and giving a small shrug. She wasn't going to argue with that, since it was true enough.  
  
Algrim considered that, but then ordered her. "You will leave your weapon here."  
  
"No. I will not." She tried a smile, with absolutely no intention of giving up her blade with thousands of possible enemies all around.  
  
"You will not see our king bearing weapons."  
  
"We mean him no harm," she answered. "And it is dishonor to imply otherwise."  
  
"And would you let me approach your king armed, Aesir?" he retorted.  
  
The answer to that was, of course, no; no Dark Elf would get within a hundred paces of Odin Allfather with a sword, and traditionally one put weapons aside when entering a home. But it rankled that he would dare try to part her from her weapon.  
  
At Algrim's gesture, one of the warriors approached with a long fabric sack and held it open.  
  
Loki removed the throwing dagger from his left vambrace and dropped it hilt first into the sack, then held out his open hand. "Sif, we have no time for protracted negotiations. Nor will your sword help us if this goes awry."  
  
"Damn it," she muttered. But he was right. It felt a little bit better to relinquish her sword to Loki and put the hilt in his hand, rather than put it in the sack herself. Irritated, she pulled her dagger from its sheath at her back. "Then you surely want this, too."  
  
Algrim glanced at it with disdain. "Your table cutlery you may keep."  
  
Her mouth dropped open at that insult.  _Table cutlery_? She was tempted to put it in his neck to prove it was not used for cutting her meat at the table. But she spied Algrim's smirk and narrowed her eyes. If Algrim thought she was so easily provoked for his amusement, he was in error. After all, she'd spent centuries around Loki, so he would need to provoke her better than that. She replaced the dagger in its sheath, and glared at Algrim. "I will take back my blade when we go. Mind you take care of it."  
  
"We shall, Aesir."  
  
Loki dropped her sword into the sack with a flourish. "There. Now, we are disarmed to your satisfaction, are we not?"  
  
Algrim looked at him. "You are yourself a weapon, Prince Loki."  
  
"Aren't we all?" Loki grinned at him and spread out his hands from his sides. "The sack appears too small for me, so this will have to do."  
  
"Come, this way," Algrim ordered curtly, not exactly pleased by the situation, but at least they appeared to be going inside the ship and heading toward Malekith.  
  
She glanced at Loki, annoyed that he'd given up exactly one dagger. It was a dagger he shouldn't even have, a dagger he must've called magically from his hidden pocket dimension, since he hadn't had one in the cell. And if he had one, he certainly had more. But she had only a dagger that Algrim thought was a table knife. Loki felt her look and turned his head to meet her eyes. He smirked, looking a little too pleased by this situation.  
  
There was a short corridor and then what looked like a bank of tube transports rising the length of the ship. Although they looked narrow, with small little doors, and dark as a cave, the interior proved to be roomy enough for six people.  
  
The lift rose quickly through the inner core of the ship, indicators flashing quickly in a language she couldn't read. They could be going to some dungeon cell or a midden heap for all she could tell, but when she glanced at Loki's face - since he could read the language and had been here before, even if he hadn't necessarily been aware of the path to get inside as an actual prisoner- Loki seemed unworried and calm.  
  
It was only when the lift slowed, did he stir to reveal any sort of interior concern. He glanced down and worried at his lip in thought, before his eyes flicked to her. Then he faced forward and strode out of the lift with quick, confident strides as if he'd made a decision.  
  
She followed. This was some sort of command deck, with two levels and controls spread around in a semi-circle. It was dim, with the farther reaches of the space too shadowy to know what was there, but there were platforms and bridges between the platforms that spanned deep gaps down to lower levels. There were many warriors, but Malekith was easy to identify as he had the most ornate armor and the others deferred to him as he issued commands.  
  
Algrim led the way to a narrow, railed bridge that crossed to the central dais where Malekith stood and a few senior control staff worked on pedestal controls. Algrim stepped aside to allow Loki to cross, but then, planted himself in her way. "You go no closer."  
  
She decided to be flattered by this estimation of her danger and raised her hands in lack of threat, smiling at Algrim. "I'll just… wait here then."  
  
Loki didn't glance back at her as he crossed over.  
  
Malekith didn't try to play any games about not expecting him, turning immediately to watch him cross. He grinned, startlingly bright in the gloom. "My friend! You have arrived as you said."  
  
"Of course!" Loki exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Would I miss it if I had any chance at all of being here?"  
  
They clasped forearms and Malekith pulled him into an embrace, slapping him on the back. Loki stiffened, but Malekith seemed not to notice. Sif hoped idly that Loki was going to slip a blade in Malekith's ribs, but Malekith stepped away unharmed.  
  
His gaze slipped behind Loki to Sif herself, and the smile died away. "Why did you bring the Aesir here?"  
  
Loki's eyes flicked to hers, his expression suddenly cold and disdainful. "I had to bring her with me, as part of my parole."  
  
"She is not with us?" Malekith asked.  
  
"No," Loki answered, and before she had a chance to decide what he meant by that, Malekith made a sharp gesture.  
  
Algrim and other guards suddenly surrounded her, lances and blades bared in a tight circle around her. She whirled, dagger in hand. "We come under a parley!" she objected. "How dare you attack us! Guest-right is sacred law across the Realms-- Loki!"  
  
But when her gaze found Loki, it was to find him standing there, his arms folded, watching her with a smirk. Malekith watched them both with interest, as the whole terrible truth sank in.  
  
It was all a lie. All of it.  
  
Loki saw the realization in her face and his smile widened to a grin.  
  
"You betraying traitor!" she yelled at him. "Traitorous son of a bitch, you lying, scheming--"  
  
She hurled her dagger at him, her fury doubling when he plucked it from the air without a flinch. There was a blade at her throat and another one in her side, but she ignored them to glare at Loki. Traitor. Liar. This had been his plan all along.  
  
"Ah, poor Sif," he taunted in mock pity, "Usually so tough, but give you a little sad story and you turn all soft."  
  
But… it had been real. It had to have been real. The king had agreed… yet it was a lie. Loki wasn't trying to make peace, he was joining Malekith in his attack on Asgard. Loki offered her dagger to Malekith, hilt first. "Keep it," Malekith said, waving a hand dismissively. "What do we do with her?"  
  
Loki considered, gaze resting on her coldly, "She did have her uses, so it seems only fair that she live long enough to watch her precious Asgard burn. Loyalty like that should be rewarded," he sneered at her hatefully.  
  
"I will see you dead for this!" she swore at him, as Algrim snapped manacles around her wrists.  
  
Loki gave an unconcerned shrug. "I think you'll have to get to the back of the line."  
  
She shook her head, not understanding how this was happening. "What about your mother!" Sif demanded. "How can you do this to her?"  
  
Loki frowned at her. "My mother? I don't know her. Oh, you mean the witch in Asgard? She's not my mother."  
  
"She loves you!"  
  
"She  _tolerates_  me," he shot back. "But then if any of you had ever understood the difference, we wouldn't be here, would we? Toleration of the foundling monster, amused while it danced for your amusement. Well, those days are over, and I will have my revenge on all of you who  _betrayed_  me."  
  
His eyes were fierce and bright, and she looked into them, searching out any clue this was a trick, any hint this wasn't real. But she found nothing, only hate and rage now unveiled.  
  
His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. "So relax, Sif, and watch your precious Realm crumble and fall into the void to be consumed by Jormungandr." Turning his back on her, Loki joined Malekith at the central control console.  
  
"Prepare to launch," Malekith commanded.  
  
Sif watched them from her place amid guards, Algrim at her back watchful. She would bide her time and wait for her moment.  
  
She would kill them to save Asgard from Loki's treachery. If she could kill only Loki, she would. Perhaps it would be enough to end the attack, and if not, it would be her last act to end him. She would gladly give her life to stop him.  
  
 _Stay focused, wait for your chance, because it will come_ , she told herself and tried to ignore the pain in her heart and the knowledge that he'd used her. He'd played on her sympathies, woven his lies, and now he was free because of her.  
  
As the ship purred to life, she settled to wait for her moment to strike.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Loki glanced at Sif, and had to smile to see her all tense and glowering at him. Anger made her eyes shine and in this dim light, she seemed especially beautiful.  
  
Not that this was the best time to tell her that, but eventually, when this all ended, he would.  
  
 **If**  it ended.  
  
No, it would end as he wished. He would save those who deserved to be saved, and all the rest could fall to the void, where they belonged. Odin feared Ragnarök, and he'd always feared Loki would bring it one day, and so Loki would, if not the way they expected.  
  
Certainly not with Fenrir, as the mortals would have it. Had he spoken aloud, the words would have been sardonic, but in his own head, the words were wistful. His heart clenched with remembered grief and pain, not only for Fenrir, but all that he had represented.  
  
…  
  
…  _His own voice is high and tight… "Please, not where anyone can see, please…" Begging, because Master Tyr likes him to beg and because Loki doesn't want to do this in the stables. He shrinks back and peeks through his hair to see how Master Tyr is taking this plea_.  
  
 _Master Tyr points to the floor. "Kneel, creature. With the straw and the other beasts. If you get to it, no one will see, will they?"_  
  
 _Loki glances at the main doors and shakes his head, first once, then again and again in frantic denial. The words fall from his mouth in impulsive defiance. "No, I won't."_  
  
 _Terror washes through him, hearing his own refusal, and he screams as Tyr picks him up by the collar of his tunic and throws him into the stable door. He smashes into the wood and the harder wall behind, and falls to his knees, hurt and trembling, helpless as Tyr comes for him and grabs his hair to wrench his head back. He says something vicious, but Loki can't hear him, because Fenrir is there, having forced his way through the main doors. The wolf hurls himself at Tyr, growling and jaws snapping... The world shatters into blood and screaming…_  
  
Loki's hands clenched to fists and he forced his mind away from that memory, only to find others bubbling back up through the cracks widened by Gungnir, cloying as spider silk to hold him in that darkness. So many. Such filth and horror and weakness to turn his stomach and freeze his heart.  
  
 _Put it away. It is long over. I lost control and blurted the truth, and now everyone knows, but that makes no difference. I need to lock it away again and forget it_.  
  
 _Sif is going to kill me if I am not careful, so I need to focus on the plan and get this done_.  
  
But even though he put it from his active memory, using his training to block out the past, the emotions remained as a seething cauldron in the deepest caverns of his heart.  
  


* * *

  
  



	5. ASGARD

In her workroom, Frigga touched the piece of folded paper tucked into the corner of the mirror. Loki's first spell was written there, a simple thing to change the color of a flower from yellow to red. It was the same spell he'd used to blacken Sif's hair later; fueled by his strength, it had tangled itself into permanence due to his inexperience at the time. The paper itself would have long since disintegrated to dust but for the preservation she'd put on it, but it was a symbol of those early lessons. When he'd refused to be in the same room as Tyr, it had seemed reasonable for her to teach him to fight in addition to the magic.   
  
_Oh, darling, I would never trade those hours together, but I would trade everything else if you had told me why_.  
  
She returned to her sitting room, sent away the attempt to bring refreshments so the family could be private, and brushed her fingers across the small poetry book. Though she wished all of this had never happened, she was glad to know now, rather than find out after his death through some scribbled confession. Or never to know at all.  
  
The main doors opened, interrupting her ruminations. Expectantly she turned, to see the Einherjar hold the double doors for the king. As soon as the doors closed behind Odin, leaving him alone with her, his posture grew more weary and he leaned on Gungnir to walk down the shallow steps between the columns. "I have sent word to Heimdall and raised the defenses. We will be ready soon," he told her. "Did you reach him?"  
  
"I did." She shook her head, pressing her lips together. "He truly believed I would cast him away if I knew the truth. I reassured him that was not so, but… to feel that… such shame and fear, so deep in his spirit…" Her voice faltered and she had to draw a deliberate breath to calm. "He seemed focused on his quest and could not hold the thread long. Is Thor on his way?"   
  
"Nearly here."   
  
Moments later, the great doors opened again and Thor entered. He paused on the top step between the two columns and noted his parents were both there and no one else.   
  
"What is this?" Thor looked from father to mother, confused and worried. "I know you called for readiness. I heard something about a warning of an attack?"  
  
"Yes," Odin confirmed. "We have warning and so we must prepare."  
  
"But that is not what we wanted to tell you," Frigga said, going to meet Thor and ushering him down the steps so she could close and ward the door. "Please, Thor. This is … not easy on us."  
  
He moved to grasp her hand. "Mother, what is it?"   
  
She tried to smile at him, faltering when she thought of how he too might have been preyed upon. What if it had not been Jotunn blood that Tyr had hated, but the sons of the king? "We considered waiting to tell you this, so you would not be distracted if the attack comes, but you need to know the truth. If the attack… goes poorly, we do not wish the truth to be buried again."  
  
He frowned. "Is this about Loki?" he asked.   
  
"Yes, but not the secret you already know."   
  
"Did he escape?" Thor asked. "Is that what this attack--?"  
  
Odin raised a hand. "Do not guess, Thor. You will not, and you make it difficult for us to speak."  
  
"Sorry. I will listen."   
  
Frigga exchanged a glance with Odin and then asked her son, "Do you remember how Loki was, in the year before Fenrir was killed?"  
  
He blinked and frowned, perplexed by a question of such ancient history. "How he was? _Before_  Fenrir was put down? I remember nothing…" But then he stopped, something coming to mind. "Oh. He spent all his time with Fenrir and abjured my company."  
  
"Did he ever tell you why?" Frigga asked.   
  
"No." His frown deepened. "Sif and I both wondered, and I asked why he disliked our company. He jested the wolf was more fun. I did not ask again. Then Fenrir attacked Tyr and after that..." he hesitated, flicked his gaze at Odin, and added carefully, "he was unhappy." But Thor nodded thoughtfully, knowing there had to be a reason for the question. "Something else happened that he kept from me?"  
  
Frigga opened her mouth to ask Thor why he had never told her that Loki was spending all his time with Fenrir and avoiding his brother, but held her tongue. He would feel guilty soon enough, without adding her condemnation for something that had been a youth's lack of wisdom.   
  
"It did," Odin confirmed, moving closer to Thor.  
  
Thor's eyes darted between his parents, worry growing. "Something happened. Besides that day Fenrir went mad."  
  
Frigga nodded once, holding her own calm tightly. "Fenrir was never mad, Thor. He attacked Tyr trying to protect Loki from being hurt." When Thor demonstrated no understanding, thinking as everyone always had, that it had been legitimate accidents and minor hurts, she added, "In excess. For the sole purpose of tormenting him."  
  
Thor's eyes grew bewildered. "But it was training? You cannot be saying--?" He glanced from mother to father, seeking refutation and seeing only confirmation. "Tyr  _hurt_  him? Deliberately?"   
  
She might have left it there, unable to tell the worst, but Odin added, "And other things, worse things. The sort of touching we permit only between consenting adults, and certainly not between a mature person and a youth."   
  
At first, Thor looked blankly perplexed, because Odin's words were ones that had not needed to be spoken since before Thor's birth. Then, his face went ashen and his eyes flew wide as understanding crashed in on him. "He  _what_?" Thor demanded. "When Loki was young? No. That can't be true! Tyr is honorable and a fine warrior and-- he would  _never_ \--"  
  
Odin interrupted, overriding Thor's denial forcefully, "He put his foot on Loki's head to force him to abase himself on the floor. Made him disrobe and perform foul acts." Frigga's hand flew to her lips, too late to hold back the distressed cry at the image that formed in her mind.   
  
Thor's reaction was no less horrified, gasping and stumbling back from Odin, frantically shaking his head in denial. "No... this cannot--"  
  
"I saw Loki's memories, Thor, as clear as you stand before me now. He put his hand on Gungnir, and he opened his mind to me. I shared all that he has kept secret these years."  
  
That undercut Thor's emotional rejection and he stared at Odin and Frigga in helpless confusion. "But what-- what can I--" he started unsteadily. Then his blue eyes darkened in rage as he knew exactly what he was going to do about it. "I am going to kill him! He hurt Loki, dishonored him, dishonored our name, betrayed us all--" He held out his hand to call Mjolnir, until Odin swept Gungnir around to slap his wrist and get his attention.  
  
"Thor. Stop."  
  
Thor shoved Gungnir away. "Father! No! You cannot pretend we don't know this - this _unspeakable_  crime! If there is no justice for this, there is no justice at all!"  
  
Odin lifted his other hand in a quelling gesture. "There will be, my son. But not now, and not in rage."  
  
Frigga agreed with the king, though her heart agreed with Thor's fury. It would be more satisfying for Thor to wield Mjolnir against Tyr, force him down to show him what it was to be helpless, and then kill him. She reminded herself that her own satisfaction was a distant second place to Loki's healing, and Loki should share in the decision of Tyr's fate.  
  
"I shall challenge him," Thor swore darkly.   
  
"If you challenge him, he will be within his right to call a champion, given his missing hand," Odin reminded him, and Thor let out a growl of frustration.   
  
"A missing hand taken by Fenrir trying to defend Loki from his predations! He cannot then use that as an excuse to escape rightful justice!"   
  
But he could. That was both law and tradition, and that was not the only law relating to dueling that Tyr could use to his advantage. "He could call Loki to face him as the accuser," Frigga murmured. "Given Loki's known facility with illusion, Tyr will argue that the Allfather saw falsehoods and condemns him unjustly."   
  
"But it is true," Thor said. Frigga couldn't blame him entirely for the question that crept into his voice, after the reminder that Loki was a master illusionist. But it was still painful to hear any doubt at all, when she knew the truth.  
  
Odin confirmed, "Yes. It is true. It is not something I do lightly, as it reveals my secrets in return. But the queen is correct. We cannot allow Tyr to sow doubt, or for him to require Loki to duel him personally."   
  
"Loki's a good fighter, Father," Thor said staunchly. "Better than you believe. He could defeat Tyr, even without his magic."   
  
Odin shook his head but not entirely in disagreement with Thor's assessment of Loki's skill. "If Tyr goads him?" Odin returned. "Tyr is no fool, and he is also guilty. He will hold back nothing when he is threatened." He hesitated and added more heavily, "He knows too well how to do great damage. We cannot let them duel."   
  
That halted Thor's aggression, as he thought about it, eyes troubled by what to do now. Frigga knew Odin was right, painful though it was to imagine. One-handed, Tyr was still a fearsome warrior, and he would have no restraint against Loki. But that was not the problem.  
  
Loki had openly hated Tyr, resenting him for Fenrir's death, but now she knew that hate was rooted in fear. In his heart he was still that youth he had been, helpless and afraid, and after the last two years of upheaval and madness and pain, Tyr would find those cracks. Loki's weaknesses would be too easy to exploit by the one who had put them there.  
  
"Is that why Loki never accused him?" Thor asked softly. "Fear he would fail in a duel?"  
  
"Fear that no one would believe him, or side with him, also," Odin added heavily.   
  
"Not even me?" Thor asked bleakly. Frigga shared his pain, that Loki could have doubted them.  
  
Odin pressed his lips together and shook his head in sad negation. "No one. It was not a rational fear, Thor. Tyr made him feel alone and different, and made him believe that he somehow deserved what was done to him. He feared if he accused Tyr of the whole of his crimes, he would be the one cast out, revealed as some sort of lesser creature." He paused and added heavily, "An accusation that found fertile soil, as Loki heard the whispers long before we knew he was listening."  
  
Frigga grimaced at that. She had tried to stamp out the rumors about his parentage, but they never could die completely since black hair was not a notable trait of either side.  
  
"Only to find out the truth was even worse than he had imagined," Thor murmured. "Why did you not tell him earlier?" he demanded, anguished. "So much might have been averted if he had known..."  
  
Odin sighed. "Perhaps." He exchanged a glance with Frigga. "We thought it a kindness. He shifted the moment I held him as an infant and he showed no signs of shifting back as he matured. If he kept his Aesir form permanently, there was nothing to tell him."  
  
Thor grimaced. "You could have told him he was adopted."   
  
"And do you think Loki would have been content with that?" Frigga asked. There was no way in the Nine Realms that Loki would have been satisfied with ' _we don't know who your blood family is_ ' as an answer, especially if he had sensed that answer was a lie. "He would have left on a quest to find his parentage the next day."  
  
Thor returned her look, unimpressed with that excuse. "Maybe he should have. At least finding out would have been his choice, rather than by accident in the midst of battle, pitching him into  _madness_."  
  
He was right. A soft sound escaped her lips, distressed, and Thor immediately looked contrite that he had hurt her. But he didn't apologize.  
  
"What is done, is done," Odin said, more repressively. "We cannot undo any of it now, only manage the aftermath."   
  
Thor still looked resistant and desperate to apportion blame, but he dropped it. "So what do we do?" Thor asked. "If I can't kill Tyr, as he surely deserves, what will you do with him?"   
  
Odin nodded approval that Thor was asking the right question. "What must be done is arrest him before he knows there is suspicion, and force him to hold Gungnir."   
  
"For confirmation?" Thor asked.  
  
"Loki's memories are confirmation enough. To discover if there were others."   
  
"Others?" Thor repeated, pressing his lips together as if he wanted to vomit. "You think he … did this as a foul habit?"   
  
"I think it is possible. Though if he did not, it is little comfort to think that his hate of the Jotunn was so great it caused him to do this to one."   
  
"To our son," Frigga added, more softly, and found herself blinking back tears. She tried to remind herself that Loki had survived, he had moved on, and this had all happened many years ago. But that did not undo the truth that this had stayed with him, unspoken but always present.  
  
"It would be no better if it were another," Odin said heavily.  
  
_But you would have believed someone else's son_ , she thought, but did not say.   
  
Thor looked between them. "Then shall I go take him under arrest? He has no doubt heard the order to prepare for war."   
  
"Yes, go swiftly. Take the Warriors Three with you; tell them Tyr is to be held for treason. Let him not speak to anyone else, and put him in a cell."  
  
"Do not let him provoke you," Frigga cautioned. "We wish him to face his justice with Loki to watch, not die while Loki is not here."   
  
Thor frowned with surprise. "Not here? So I was right? He escaped?"  
  
"No. I released him. In his madness, Loki contrived alliance with Malekith of Svartalfheim," Odin said brusquely. "He has repented, and in a gesture of atonement, he left to turn Malekith away from attacking us. If he fails, Svartalfheim will strike in the midst of the convergence."   
  
Hearing about it now that she was in a better state to understand, Frigga caught her breath. He had sent Loki to turn Malekith away from a revenge finally in his grasp? It seemed unlikely at best, and fatal at worst to even try. She glanced at the bright sky outside, seeing the faint shimmer of the shields beyond, and wondered when the Convergence would draw Svartalfheim close enough to allow ships to cross the void between. At that point, they would know whether Loki had succeeded or failed. If any could find a way, surely he could...   
  
Thor blinked, trying to take all that in. " _Svartalfheim_? That is the enemy planning to attack us? Loki is going to Svartalfheim alone?" His hand clenched, pondering a call to Mjolnir. "Father, you should send me to him. He should not be alone, not in that fearsome place, he will--"  
  
Frigga patted his shoulder in reassurance. "Sif is with him. He isn't alone."   
  
"Oh. Well. That is good then. But still, you should send me to him."  
  
"He said specifically it was his to do himself. But he also said to tell you, you were right," Odin said. "I know not what he meant, but that was his message to you before he left."   
  
Thor smiled, and let out a breath of relief, jesting, "You know how hard it is for him to admit I am right about anything. But I think he meant that we are brothers, for that was what I kept saying to him on Midgard." His smile faded. "Which is why I should be at his side."   
  
"Sif will keep him as safe as she can," Frigga said. "And we need you to take Tyr into gaol before he can escape. Or before he can reveal truths we would rather he keep silent."  
  
Thor nodded, face settling into grimmer lines. "I will."   
  
"Then go," Odin commanded.   
  
Silence lingered in Thor's wake, as Frigga hoped he would succeed swiftly, with little notice.  
  
"I know you are right about Loki needing to see him punished," Odin said after a moment. "Yet there is a warning within that we may wish that Tyr had been ended swiftly."   
  
"Perhaps," she agreed. "But Loki has suffered for expediency and convenience long enough. Whatever the risk, it is past time he emerges from this long, frozen winter and finds his own light and warmth."   
  
Odin nodded his agreement, as they prepared to discover whether their son had succeeding in undoing his plan, and what price he and everyone would pay for it. 


	6. ASGARD

Thor left his parents' reception room, troubled to the heart, upset for Loki, and anger seething. His fingers itched for Mjolnir, and he clenched his jaw so he wouldn't call the hammer and lay waste to everything in this long hallway and everything he passed.  
  
_How could he have endured this? How did he keep silent? Why did he say nothing? How could Tyr have been so cruel? How did I not see?_  
  
He  _had_  seen, that was the worst part. He had seen, but not enough. He had been too busy pouting that his brother abandoned him to consider why.   
  
_I knew there was something wrong. It wasn't right that you withdrew, played only with Fenrir, and avoided your classes. It wasn't right that you stopped using a sword, because Tyr was your sword master. It wasn't right that you lied about your bad dreams. I never understood what I was seeing._  
  
Not long ago, Loki had yelled at him, angry and stricken: " _I just wanted to be your equal_!" Thor had thought it was Loki's desire for the throne, and then he'd learned the truth of Loki's blood and thought that the cause of Loki's envy. But now he knew the worst and deepest root of Loki's feelings of being  _less_ : that he had been the child tormented by their teacher, and his elder brother was not.  
  
Thor stopped in the hall, shutting his eyes and gathering himself together again. He had to be calm. First he needed to collect the Warriors Three, and together, they would find Tyr and arrest him for his vile betrayal.   
  
He waylaid a servant to deliver messages, and waited for his friends at the entrance to the weapons yard, finding it difficult to offer polite greetings to other people. Hogun was first to arrive, already armed for the battle to come. "We have some mission?" he asked.  
  
Thor nodded. "A command from the Allfather. For those he trusts most."  
  
Hogun nodded his appreciation, but waited without comment. Thor regretted that Hogun didn't try to fill the silence with something that might have distracted Thor from his anger.   
  
Volstagg and Fandral arrived. Thor looked at Volstagg, thinking of his children. Some were grown now, but he had a daughter and son not yet of maturity. And his son had been a student of Tyr's.   
  
He explained briefly, "The Allfather has received proof of treason committed by one of our own. He has tasked us to bring this traitor under arrest as quickly as possible."   
  
Hogun glanced to the yard. "Someone here?"  
  
Thor hesitated and then softly answered, "Tyr."   
  
"What?" Volstagg bellowed, until Thor glared him into a quieter voice. "That is impossible! The Allfather--"  
  
"He is certain of this," Thor interrupted and leaned into Volstagg's face to stare into his eyes. "And I will not speak of the details of this treachery, Volstagg, but it is a one that impugns my family's honor very deeply. I would rather kill him where he stands than place him under arrest. But the king gives the command and I will obey it. As will you."  
  
"Of course we will," Fandral reassured him. "But to hear it is him? Such an honorable warrior and long-time companion to the king himself? It seems so strange."  
  
Thor noticed Hogun did not seem very surprised. Hogun was usually impassive, but his dark eyes seemed a bit too knowing. "You… know something. You suspected."  
  
"I  _know_  nothing," Hogun said. "But as an outsider in this court, I often see what the rest of you do not. And Tyr has often behaved with far less honor than he ought. What did he do?"  
  
"Something he should not have, to one too young to resist."  
  
He had said too much, as all three of his friends reacted with dismay. Volstagg was the first to turn to wrath. "A child! He harmed--"  
  
Thor held up his hand urgently. "Volstagg! Quiet. If he hears too early that he is found out, he will flee or fight. We must take him with stealth."   
  
"Then let us go." Fandral unsheathed his sword and twirled it. "We will not let him escape justice."  
  
"He was in the western training hall last I saw," Volstagg declared and stomped off in that direction.  
  
The others followed him, as Volstagg- his parental wrath roused nearly as high as Thor's own familial rage- led the way.   
  
"I will attend the gate," Hogun murmured to Thor and stepped away to make sure Tyr did not slip past them. Thor was a bit sorry to lose his cooler head, but he did not want Tyr to escape.  
  
As they approached the western training hall and the sounds within of rhythmic metal-on-metal of lances on shields, Thor held them back. "You two remain here, I will draw him without."  
  
Volstagg and Fandral agreed, parting to either side of the main doors to wait, while Thor entered.   
  
Tyr spied him at once and lifted his hand. "Trainees, halt!" he ordered. "Face Prince Thor and give him your respect."  
  
As the trainees, young men mostly but with a handful of young women as well, turned to present arms in their tidy lines, Thor smiled at them. But inside he felt suddenly ill, and he wanted to hurl Mjolnir straight into Tyr's face.  _You dare speak of respecting a prince, or the throne, or anything?_  
  
His gaze ran across the young eager faces, and he prayed that none of them had 'private lessons' with the weapons master. That none of them were learning that sort of servitude and self-loathing that Tyr had taught.  
  
"Trainees! Excellent form!" Thor called. "But I must borrow your weapons-master. Tyr." He jerked his head to indicate he was to step out to the corridor.  
  
"Of course, my prince," Tyr said, and gave quiet orders to his assistant to continue the students' patterns. As he approached Thor, he asked curiously, "Is this about the alert? I told Warmaster Freyr I was ready to serve in whatever capacity he and the Allfather wished."   
  
Thor glanced down to Tyr's missing hand. He had, for a time, used a false hand prosthesis very like a real one, and he also used one that was of a piece with a shield. But he had neither right now, only a smooth cap that covered where Fenrir's jaws had crushed the small bones of his wrist and wrenched off his hand.  _Fenrir should have taken more than your hand that day_.  
  
Tyr noted the direction of his gaze. "I assure you, my prince, I am quite capable."   
  
"I am glad to know that," Thor answered, with distant politeness, knowing if he spoke more he would explode with the rage building up within. It was a fire that demanded satisfaction for this pain he'd been dealt, learning this truth.   
  
His jaw was so tight he might crack his teeth.   
  
Tyr noticed and frowned. "Is all well?"   
  
"Fine," Thor gritted out and turned to head outside before he gave it all away.   
  
As soon as Tyr followed him to the passage, Volstagg shut the doors and stood before them to prevent anyone from interfering from that direction, or Tyr from escaping back into the training hall.   
  
Thor whirled back around and slammed Tyr into the wall beside the door. "You foul creature! You treasonous  _dog_."  
  
Tyr's eyes bugged out of his head in shock. "My lord, Prince Thor--" he started but Thor put his forearm across his throat.  
  
" _You will be silent_ , or by all the Norns I will rip your tongue out, I swear," Thor raged. "You dare speak to me,  _to me_ , about respect, when you have dishonored my house in the most vile way imaginable?"  
  
Tyr shook his head in frantic protest, as well as he could with Thor leaning on his neck, but Thor had been fooled by deceit only in the best, and he saw the understanding appear for what this was about. Tyr knew. He knew he'd been found out. His eyes darted for the far end of the corridor and the sunlight shining there over the yard.  
  
"I don't know how you silenced him," Thor leaned close and whispered in his ear, "but now we know the truth. And now you will face the justice you avoided all those years ago."  
  
"All lies," Tyr gasped. "Whatever you think you know--"  
  
"Do not tempt me to break your craven neck," Thor threatened.   
  
"Thor," Fandral cautioned.   
  
Thor relented and grabbed the chain. In the brief moment he wasn't held, Tyr shifted his weight to run, only to find Fandral's blade at his throat. His smile hard, Fandral invited, "Try it. Your throat lacks bloody decoration."  
  
Volstagg's great shaggy head shook back and forth in slow disbelief. "Is it what I think?" he asked.  
  
"Worse, old friend. Much worse," Thor confirmed. He shoved Tyr face first into the wall and snapped the collar around his throat and both of the manacles to his intact wrist. "To the cells beneath. To await trial and the Allfather's justice."  
  
"You believe the prince of lies?" Tyr challenged. "They call him Silvertongue for a reason, master of illusion, sorcerer…" Given that Thor hadn't mentioned an accuser, that was an admission of guilt to Thor. Tyr shouldn't know this had anything to do with Loki if he were innocent. But Tyr continued, trying the old trick that had used to work, impugning Loki's honor and truthfulness. Thor listened to words he had once heard and believed, realizing how Tyr had always tried to make Loki into something else. Something less. Thor was shamed to realize how well it had worked when he'd been young.  
  
"He is not a warrior like us. We speak together, you and I, we are alike--"   
  
That was beyond endurable. "We are nothing alike!" Thor raged at him and yanked the chain between Tyr's wrist and throat to jerk his head backward. "The only liar here is you. There is an simple way to prove your innocence. Wrap your hand around Gungnir and open your mind to the Allfather's sight. Will you do that, Tyr?"  
  
"He would never require that of me," Tyr answered staunchly, but with a quaver to his voice. "He will believe my word, always my honesty is unquestioned…"  
  
"A trust you betrayed!" Thor shoved him ahead so hard he stumbled and nearly fell. "Fandral, watch him. I will call Mjolnir if he opens his mouth one more time."  
  
"Oh, it will be my pleasure," Fandral said, laying his sword blade against Tyr's throat again in a caress. "If half what I suspect is true, I hope you enjoyed these past few centuries of freedom, Tyr, because your remaining ones will be misery."  
  
"If you have any at all," Thor growled. "If you think my fury burns hot, you have not seen the Allfather's wrath, Tyr."  
  
Tyr snorted and something in his voice shifted, as if dropping an illusion he no longer needed, turning sly and vile, "Oh, I doubt that, prince. Because unlike you, he and I have both been aligned in our opinion on the creature."   
  
Thor's stomach heaved and unthinking, he hurled Tyr into the wall. He smashed into the tiles there with a cry and a shattering of ancient ceramic. "You dare!" He grabbed Tyr's hair to slam his head back into the tiles again. "You dare taunt me with such words!"   
  
"Thor! Thor, stop!" Volstagg grabbed his arm and though Thor pulled free, it was enough that the blinding rage passed. "Stop. You said the Allfather did not want him dead."   
  
"And we are attracting attention," Fandral pointed out, as Hogun trotted close.  
  
"Yes. Einherjar approach," he reported. "We need to move unless you want an audience."  
  
Which was what Tyr wanted. Thor shook his head. "No, we will deny you a chance to spread your poison," he growled and hauled Tyr upright by the chain. "Move."  
  
More swiftly now, with Volstagg holding the chain while Thor went ahead with Hogun to clear the halls so Tyr would have no one to tell his foul lies and truths, they made their way beneath to the cells.   
  
Tyr stopped on the sight of Loki's, now open and dark, but clearly his with the sleeping couch and other furniture. "But--" he objected, his voice confused. "Where is he? The beast was supposed to be kenneled down here forever…"  
  
The Warriors Three also stopped. "Loki was here?" Fandral asked.  
  
"And is gone," Hogan observed.  
  
"The king released him," Thor took great satisfaction in telling them, especially Tyr. "Loki has left Asgard with Sif to turn back the Svartalfar force approaching us. So fortune still smiles upon you, Tyr, for the king has determined that you will not face justice without Loki to watch."  
  
Tyr took a step toward the empty cell, but Thor jerked the chain. "You think you get the cell of a prince?" He shoved Tyr down the way, to a much smaller, sparser, cell. "Wait here. The Allfather will tend you. Eventually."   
  
He opened the manacles and shoved Tyr's back so hard he stumbled and nearly fell. "No, this is a mistake!" Tyr exclaimed desperately, turning around, his eyes more on the Warriors Three than Thor. "Don't you see? It is all a plot, a revenge that Loki planned long ago, he hates me for getting his animal killed. He fooled the king with his deceit, to get out of that cell down the way and to make other people pay for crimes that he committed."   
  
"Funny, the Allfather predicted almost every word of that," Thor observed dryly. "You are obvious in your attempts at trickery now, Tyr. What worked on youths, works no more."  
  
"I know he blinded you from a young age, worked his way like a viper inside your affections, so you do not see him for what he is. But I cannot believe the Allfather has fallen for his vile tricks!" Tyr exclaimed. "He is one of them, and he will destroy us all!"  
  
Thor slammed the panel to activate the shield across the front. Then he took a moment before he lifted his head to address Tyr, "The only reason he wanted to destroy anything is _you_."  
  
Before he said or did something he'd regret, he turned and headed for the exit. His friends followed him, all subdued.  
  
At the landing at the top of the stairs before they opened the doors, Volstagg stopped. "Putting it all together lad, the conclusion seems… inescapable."  
  
"Tyr--" Fandral gestured a hand in the direction of the cells, "harmed Loki."  
  
Thor nodded, feeling drained now that he had no one left to turn his rage upon. "I should not have said as much as I did," Thor murmured and his gaze went to his brother's empty cell. "He put a hand on Gungnir earlier, and Father saw the truth. All that he kept hidden these many years, that we never saw. No one knew that those 'private lessons' he had with Tyr, the sword was not what he was learning at all."   
  
"But why?" Hogun asked. "He spoke of Loki as something… some kind of creature, with such hatred."   
  
Thor hesitated. He knew Loki would not want anyone to know, and they already knew more than they should. He chose a partial truth, which even the Midgardians knew now, and answered, "He was a foundling; Father rescued him as an infant during the war. I know not how Tyr knew; Loki and I never did. He discovered the truth when… when Father fell into the Odinsleep recently, and…" Thor recalled Loki's eyes alight with strange mad desperation and the even worse calm that settled on his face as he had pulled his fingers off Gungnir and fallen. He finished with sorrow, "… he has not been the same since."   
  
The Warriors Three listened with varying shades of astonishment at all these secrets now suddenly coming to light. Volstagg nodded in thoughtful understanding and his hand gripped Thor's shoulder. "We will keep this secret, my friend. For you and for Loki."   
  
Hogun and Fandral both agreed, somber-faced.   
  
Volstagg was older, so he had not been part of their training, and Hogun had not come to Asgard yet, but Fandral had also been there. He said thoughtfully, "I had wondered why Loki's sword-forms never improved."   
  
That was true. All those private lessons had never helped during sparring. If anything, Loki's skills had gotten worse. It hadn't been a surprise when Loki had abandoned sword training and refused to be in the same room as Tyr after Fenrir's death. But all of those clues were now so obvious in hindsight.   
  
"He never told me," Thor murmured. "Not one word. But I should have known."   
  
"Lad, you could not have done anything," Volstagg comforted him. "You were a youth yourself."  
  
"That doesn't help, Volstagg, when I know my eyes were just as blind as everyone else's."   
  
"How did Heimdall not know? He sees everything," Fandral said.  
  
"He watches our enemies, not trusted companions of the king teaching the king's son. Why would he look?" Volstagg asked and shook his great shaggy head in sadness.  
  
"Now we know," Hogun said. "It helps us understand all the strange events of recent days especially. None of us will let it be forgotten, Thor. But Tyr is secure and Loki is not here. There still may be war. We need to go above and prepare."   
  
Thor nodded, agreeing, though his heart still quailed at leaving Tyr here, unpunished.   
  
As he turned away, his eyes lingered on Loki's empty cell.   
  
_I will see you again, Brother. I will, I must. We will somehow make all this right, and you will understand that you belong with us. You are part of this family, and nothing and no one can rip that apart: not Tyr's evil acts, not elves out of legend, not your blood, not even you._


	7. SVARTALFHEIM

****  
  
  
The great warship launched slowly, rising high above Svartalfheim. There, they hovered, awaiting the convergence. Sif knew little about the event, save that it was a rare alignment of all the Realms that made them all close enough together that ordinary power was enough to make their own Bifrost.  
  
But Malekith seemed pleased with the launch, if impatient while they waited, pacing his small command deck space like an imprisoned animal. Loki waited with more seeming patience, lounging against the rail with his arms folded as if at his ease. He watched Malekith pace until he finally snapped in irritation, "Stop fretting. It will be soon. Can you not feel it? The Realms are in constant motion and now they draw nearer to one another. The boundaries grow thin."  
  
Malekith halted and peered at Loki curiously. "You are not anxious?"  
  
"We have both waited for this moment. It will come."   
  
"What if the city shield is up by then?" Malekith asked. "This is taking too long."  
  
The shield had to be up already. Heimdall would have gotten the command from the Allfather not long after she and Loki had left. Even though the Allfather hoped Loki would succeed, Sif was sure that he would plan for contingencies where he failed. Hopefully he also planned for the contingency of Loki's betrayal.  
  
"You can still lay waste to the rest, and the shield is not impenetrable," Loki informed him calmly. "Wait until the convergence is at its height. You will need less energy to travel and have more available for the attack."  
  
"Yes, excellent idea," Malekith agreed eagerly, snarling, "We have been exiled and trampled underfoot by the Aesir long enough. They destroyed my Realm, murdered my people, and I will unleash the darkness upon them, so they will taste my revenge."   
  
"Yes," Loki agreed, grinning. "That will be a great day." He hesitated, and asked, "What darkness do you mean? If you intend some sorcerous attack, I will need preparation to join your spell…"  
  
"To take the aether," Malekith told him. "I will attack and take back what Borsson stole from us and I will unleash the darkness upon Asgard until it is pulled into the void."   
  
"Ah. I see. I thought you meant more figuratively, as I did with Jormungandr. Because….." Loki started and then stopped, frowning.   
  
"What? Is that a problem to destroy it so utterly?" Malekith asked.  
  
"No, no, not at all. But the aether... if that's what you truly want, you should know, it's not in Asgard."  
  
"It sits in the Treasury. You told me so yourself," Malekith said.  
  
"I did," Loki confirmed. "I saw it there and I assumed it was real. But when Odin foolishly let me put a hand on Gungnir, seeking to read my mind before he let me free, I read his in turn. I discovered the aether's true location. It hasn't been in Asgard for a thousand years; a simulacrum sits in the Treasury to snare the unwary."  
  
"What?" Malekith stalked closer to peer at him closely with suspicious eyes. "Is this some game, Loki? Some trickery, Trickster?"  
  
"I have no reason to lie about it. And think about it," Loki told him impatiently, straightening and spreading his arms in invitation. "Even Odin Allfather isn't stupid enough to keep all the Infinity Gems in the same place. The Cosmic Cube was sent to Midgard, the Gauntlet is on Asgard, and the aether..." he trailed off suggestively.  
  
Malekith asked, "Where is it?"   
  
Sif shook her head, horrified by this turn of events. Odin had warned that no secrets would be kept in their joining with Gungnir, yet it seemed that he was the only one whose secrets were revealed. "Loki, no! Don't tell him!" Sif implored. With the aether, Malekith would have the power to do almost anything, including bring down Asgard's shields, or make a portal that didn't require the Bifrost.  
  
Loki glanced at her, smirked and answered, "Jotunheim. Odin stole the Casket of the Ancient Winters from them, and left the aether in its place. Hidden. But I know where it is. We can get it after we attack Asgard. It will be simple enough, once we control the Bifrost."  
  
"No," Malekith spun away. "We go to Jotunheim first. And collect the aether."   
  
Loki grabbed his arm, yanking him back, glaring at him furiously. "You said we would bring down Asgard. I'm here for your vendetta against them, not collecting power trinkets," he snarled.  
  
"Patience, my friend. With the aether in our hands, think of how we can make it burn." Malekith clapped his shoulder and went to some kind of communications panel behind his seat to tell his people to change the course. "And once we have the aether, we will need neither Bifrost nor convergence to travel the arms of Yggdrasil."  
  
Sif watched them, wanting to curse, wanting to kill, wanting to stab herself for being such a fool, for believing him. Believing the trickster, believing  _Loki_. She should have known better, should never have been suckered...  
  
But then, in the midst of her furious despair, she noticed the curl of Loki's lips in a faint version of his usual self-satisfied smirk. That smirk shifted to a sullen pout as soon as Malekith turned around, and she frowned.   
  
Why was he pleased about this? What did this gain him?   
  
He hated Jotunheim, too, so it wouldn't bother him if Malekith attacked them. The aether would make an attack on Asgard more possible.  
  
Yet. Something niggled at her, a little worm of doubt that warned she wasn't thinking, only reacting.  
  
Would Odin have hidden the aether on Jotunheim, risking its discovery by his enemies? He might have hidden it away from Asgard, that much she believed could be true, but  _there_?   
  
She looked at Loki again, tracing his profile with her eyes. That skin was no more real than anything about him; he'd made it clear that he was no Aesir and he felt no loyalty. So why not change it? Malekith knew the truth, and the Dark Elves probably would trust him more if he weren't Aesir in appearance. Yet he stayed pale-skinned. Maybe because he hated his Jotunn skin more, or maybe because he still felt a part of Asgard. He must have sensed her regard, but he refused to look at her. But was that because he didn't want to see her condemnation and rage at his betrayal, or because he was afraid he'd give away the truth?   
  
Was she the one tricked, or was it Malekith? But surely if he'd planned to trick Malekith, he would have warned her so she wouldn't try to kill him.  
  
Since he'd said nothing, he was still a betraying traitor. And that meant the aether really could be on Jotunheim, and Loki intended to use it against Asgard.  
  
Even if Loki was mad, that didn't mean Malekith was, too. Perhaps he could be reasoned with.  
  
"We came here to negotiate peace!" she exclaimed, drawing both their attention. "Even if that was never Loki's intent, it was mine. Can we not… bring this enmity to an end some other way? King Bor is long dead, there are few on Asgard who remain of that time. All those children born after are innocent of whatever fault was done to you."  
  
"Fault?" Malekith hissed, eyes like silver in his sudden rage. He stalked to the edge of the platform, directly across from her. "Do you not know his fault, Aesir?"  
  
"I know there was a war--" she began, and he silenced her with a sharp wave of his hand.   
  
”Do you not know how he and your kind came to my Realm in conquest, incensed that we had dared find a way off Svartalfheim that did not depend upon your monopoly of the Bifrost. King Bor of the Cursed Name butchered my people, thousands of them until the blood wet the stone, but he was not content with such carnage. To teach us a  _lesson_  of Asgardian power, he used the tesseract to crack Svartalfheim's spine, to send molten rock and ash and dust into our air until we choked and died. The trees burned, the green withered, and our children withered with it. Until we are all that remain. Not a child has been born since he stole the aether away from us. Not one, Aesir. So speak to me not of your innocent children -- I have none. I will have none. So I must be satisfied with my vengeance."   
  
Her mouth opened, shocked and horrified at this story. "I-- I had no knowledge of this. I-- I doubt many Aesir do."  
  
"Your king does, Lady Sif. I know because I told him. I humbled myself before his great throne, begged his mercy, and do you know what he said? There was nothing to be done. He locked us out of the Bifrost, so that we would die. Alone. Unremembered."   
  
"But no," Sif objected. "That can't be. That's not what-- the king would never--"  
  
"Never?" Loki repeated and laughed once in scorn. "Do you not know Odin at all? When he stole the Casket of the Ancient Winters, he ruined Jotunheim. Like father, like son. It makes me curious which Realm Thor will someday destroy to make sure that all Nine remain under Asgardian leash."   
  
"No, no, he would never…" Sif was still stunned. To have lost all their children, and to have no more? To have no hope for the future? Ancestors, that was terrible... "Surely we could help you? All our technology, all of yours… together… could help…"   
  
"We want no help from  _butchers_ ," Malekith snarled.   
  
"Do you think they have sat idle for five thousand years, Sif?" Loki asked. "They have sought every remedy, magical and mundane in all our Realms, and those beyond. For naught."   
  
"In all the Realms? What of Midgard?" Sif asked.  
  
"The rats?" Loki retorted and laughed in scorn. "They know a little and think it is much. They have nothing to offer."  
  
She had to agree that the Midgardians were not very advanced yet, but remembering Jane Foster and her fearless way of looking at the universe, she thought that was something to value as well. "But they are clever. Unafraid to try new things. Please, there has to be another way, Malekith. I understand your thirst for vengeance, and I know I would share it if I were you--" she glared at Loki, who smiled back unafraid, before turning her gaze back to Malekith, "but there has to be another way. Destroying Asgard will not bring your people back."   
  
"Nothing will," Malekith said curtly. "But at least we will know as our race dies that yours died first, crying out in the darkness."   
  
He turned from her then and stalked away, finished with the conversation.   
  
She didn't realize Loki had stayed where he was, not following Malekith, until he mused aloud, "It is curious that Odin Allfather thought peace was even possible with this grievance, is it not? He must have thought me Silvertongue in truth to halt Malekith's revenge. Or he never understood their grievance at all. As he has never understood mine. So sure I would be  _grateful_  to him for saving my life, as he is so sure the Svartalfar were merely exaggerating their claims and distress. Or," he slowed and offered with a sly grin, "or he knows perfectly well that they will never stop and he sent me here to atone for my sins in the only way left for me."  
  
She took his meaning and was horrified. "Loki, no."   
  
His smile turned bitter. "Ah, yes, did you think there was forgiveness in his mind, Sif? I assure you there was not. He sent me here to plea for peace and to die by Malekith's convenient hand, as nearly happened last time. But at the last moment, I choose another path." He glanced to Malekith and the other Dark Elf watchers. "My grievance is not so weighty as some, but I assure you, my hate is no less."   
  
She shook her head in desperate denial, as Malekith came back to Loki's side and held out his hand. "Imagine what we can do with the aether in our hands, my brother," Malekith declared.   
  
Loki barely hesitated before clasping arms with him. "We shall rip them apart. Together."   
  
"Loki, no." But her despairing voice barely emerged from her throat, and Loki ignored her completely as he turned his back on his family and sought brotherhood with one of the other monsters.

 


	8. JOTUNHEIM

Sif waited and watched. She longed to act, to fight, to take blades and heads, but she bit her lip and kept still. It was not yet time. If she acted too soon, they would likely kill her.  There was nowhere to go, trapped on this ship, and at least for now, the Dark Elves were content with keeping her guarded so she could eventually watch Asgard fall as Loki had requested.  
  
Nor was Asgard in danger, at the moment at least, as the warship was set to open a path to Jotunheim, not Asgard. She was not going to mention anything or provoke Malekith or Loki until they were at Jotunheim, to make sure Malekith didn't change his mind and go to Asgard after all.  
  
Surely the king had put up the shield and Heimdall was guarding the Bifrost by now, because they knew the attack was imminent, even if they were ignorant of Loki's plans to betray them. But still, the mission was to stop the attack, and so far it was delayed.  
  
Loki kept glancing her way and smiling, in a very taunting, smirking manner that she wanted to smack off his face. But she returned a stony glare that promised his death, and his smile widened in amusement. It was very frustrating.  
  
The ship readied to transfer, buffeted about by the uncertain new energy patterns as the Realms came into alignment, but then the power cells warmed and hummed, Dark Elves said something in their harsh tongue, and the ship was yanked from Svartalfheim… somewhere else.  
  
She stumbled, feeling dizzy and sick to her stomach briefly. The transfer had been strange and rough, not at all like the Bifrost or even Loki's personal way to jump from Realm to Realm.  
  
After a moment of consultation with his people, Malekith turned to Loki. "We have come. To Jotunheim. Where do we go?"  
  
"Loki, no! Tell him nothing!" she called, knowing her objection would fall on deaf ears, yet compelled to implore him anyway.  
  
"To the city ruins," he answered easily, ignoring her as if she'd said nothing at all. "We can go on foot from there."  
  
"The Frost Giants will see us as we land," Malekith said.  
  
Loki gave him a sideways look, unimpressed with the objection. "You have thousands of troops on this ship, do you not? I fail to see a problem."  
  
"I need my warriors against Asgard. I cannot affort to have many fall here. Plus the weather is hostile."  
  
"The weather of Jotunheim is hostile, how shocking," Loki retorted dryly, rolling his eyes. "You were the one who wanted to retrieve the aether, Malekith; blame Odin if you want to complain that the Realm is  _inconvenient_ ," he sneered in contempt.  
  
Sif had to bite her lip so she wouldn't smile, not wanting to give Loki that satisfaction, but it was a little funny how scornful he was with his own putative ally.  
  
Malekith didn't argue or seem too angered by Loki's remark, lifting a hand to prevent any of his warriors from reacting to the implicit offense.  
  
"Land the ship," he ordered. "Algrim, prepare a detachment for the surface." Malekith glanced, very disgruntled, at the displays. "They're out there somewhere, even if the weather is hiding them."  
  
Algrim looked at her very suspiciously, as if once he was gone she would try something, she just smiled at him, and wondered how many Dark Elves she could kill with her hands bound.  
  
The squad leader of Malekith's Einherjar, whatever he called it, stepped toward to reassure Algrim that he had her under control. Sif rolled her eyes, and after she saw Loki smile in amusement. He hardened up his expression when he saw that she'd noticed, but still, that was a crack she wanted to exploit, to get him to change his mind about this.  
  
Though, Norns have mercy, there was no way the Svartalfar would change their mind, not after what she'd heard. That was troubling, to know that such a tragedy had happened because of Asgard -- there could be no justification for Bor's act in destroying an entire people.  
  
The ship landed and it wasn't long before soldiers reported to Malekith and he was ready to go below. "Come, my friend, let us go take the aether. It appears the Frost Giants are keeping their distance, from Algrim's report."  
  
"Certainly," Loki agreed and followed Malekith. He paused then and glanced over his shoulder at her and suggested, "I think Sif should come with us. It seems risky to leave her here, away from our supervision."  
  
She sneered, "As if I want to watch you betray everything and everyone."  
  
Malekith hesitated, gaze going from Loki to her as if he suspected something, but then he admitted, "If she gets out of hand, what's the worse that can happen? She runs off into the snow? The weather or the giants will kill her quickly enough. There is no Bifrost here, Sif of Asgard," he warned her. "No one is coming to your rescue."  
  
"No one needs to rescue me," she shot back.  
  
"You will," Malekith threatened. She glared at him, unimpressed. Malekith spun away. "We go. Bring her."  
  
In a separate lift from the one carrying Malekith and Loki, the Dark Elves put blades against her skin, and while she could have tried something against one, that many seemed a foolish risk when she'd have better opportunity in the snow and ice fields outside than trapped on this ship.  
  
Which Loki knew, but perhaps he was counting on numbers to keep her docile, or perhaps he realized she wouldn't want to leave without either cutting his throat or hauling him back to a cell for his treachery. Loki enjoyed dangerous games where his own control was a tenuous thing, though he looked curiously relieved when she and her minders joined them in a bare corridor full of Svartalfar.  
  
The air already felt chill, but she refused to pull her cape over her arms, as they group headed through warriors and to an open door.  
  
At the threshold she paused to take stock of her surroundings. Malekith's ship had landed itself in the deep canyon to one side of the ruined city, so that a ramp from the upper third of the ship could allow Malekith to step out. She frowned; this should be a similar vantage to when she'd been here not long ago, but the ruins and ice sculptures seemed different, even more tumbled. Some of it was scars from the battle, but there was far more than she remembered leaving. One of the ridges also appeared strangely lower as if in some earthquake.  
  
The Svartalfar nudged her down the ramp and she turned to wait, as Malekith and Loki followed. Loki also hesitated at the top of the ramp, frowning.  
  
"Loki?" Malekith prodded. "Is all well?"  
  
"It looks… different," Loki murmured, and Sif was glad for the confirmation. "Changed," he trailed off, and looked more troubled as he glanced behind them, at the cliff-edge which seemed closer to the ruins than she remembered it being as though part of it had crumbled away.  
  
"Can you still find the aether?" Malekith asked.  
  
Loki grinned, but to Sif's eyes it seemed more forced, as if he was distracted by other thoughts. "Oh yes, certainly. The temple is this way."  
  
Sif saw no Frost Giants as they trod roughly in the same direction they had gone before to confront Laufey on that ill-fated trip. Loki had discovered his own blood by accident then, somewhere in the midst of these towering columns of stone and ice which were now remnants of lost ancient glory.  
  
She was wrong. There  _were_ Frost Giants. She nearly stepped on the arm of one, lying underneath rubble. There was a second as well, both plainly dead, caught in a landslide from above of fallen stone and dirt and ice. Once she started looking, she saw more bodies, partially covered by snow or debris.  
  
Loki stopped on sight of them. "Like father, like son," he murmured, before catching himself, clenching his fists. Then more loudly, he said with a more sardonic tone, "Well, that explains why they haven't come to meet us."  
  
"Are they all dead?" Malekith asked, with mild interest. "Asgard's doing I presume. To punish your kind in your stead?"  
  
"Oh yes," Loki answered, more quietly. "To punish them for being my kind."  
  
"Then let us find the aether and punish them," Malekith strode ahead with his guards, Loki slow to follow after.  
  
"Asgard did no such thing," Sif declared. "That's a lie and you know it."  
  
"When Thor shattered the Bifrost what, exactly, do you think it was connected to, Sif?" Loki returned, his meaning plain.  
  
She stared around at the destruction, aghast. "But-- no," she protested. "That's not what-- But that means that  _you_ \--"  
  
She was so busy confronting him about this, that she noted the noise as only the wind whistling through the stones.  
  
But Loki's head snapped up and, all at once, he threw himself at her bodily, shoving her to the side and slamming her to the ground. Landing with a heavy thud, she was about to slam her fists in his face, when a giant boulder crashed to the ground atop where they had just been, making the ground tremble beneath her.  
  
Loki grinned down into her face. "It seems they're not all dead."  
  
"Get off me, or I will kill you right now," she promised in a dark whisper.  
  
 He was enjoying this far too much. "I save your life and that's how you repay me?"  
  
She was about to retort, but she felt his fingers moving between the press of their bodies. But not to grope her like she thought at first. At her manacles. What was he doing?  
  
So close, almost his mouth on hers, he murmured, "Be ready."  
  
Then he rolled off her and stood up. She followed, wondering what he'd done to her manacles. She tugged at them, but they were still fastened. Her gaze went to him in confusion. "Be ready" - ready for what?  
  
Was this all a trick against Malekith?  
  
A few of her erstwhile guards had not been so lucky against the giant boulder. Malekith's warriors were tending their fallen, as another detachment was sent with Algrim to find the Frost Giant attackers up on the ridge.  
  
Malekith frowned at Loki. "You save the Aesir witch?"  
  
"Warrior, Malekith. Sif is a warrior, not a witch," Loki corrected, walking with casual grace a few steps away from her, but no nearer to Malekith. His tone was different, too; it held a warmth that had been lacking before.  
  
Malekith didn't hear it. "While Algrim tends to our foes, we need to find the aether swiftly, before the giants call more to their defense. Where is it?"  
  
Loki's smirk was sly and then he broke into a laugh. "Oh, you are a fool, Malekith. Did you believe for  _one second_  that I would let you touch the aether? No, it is quite safe, I assure you. And nowhere near us."  
  
Malekith blinked, staring at Loki as if he didn't understand what Loki said. Sif smiled, relieved that she was right.  
  
"You betray me?" Malekith demanded in shock and growing anger. "For Asgard? For those monsters?"  
  
Loki's humor died. "We're all monsters. But your race is dying, and I will not let you drag everyone else down with you." He snapped his fingers in her direction and the manacles opened and fell from her wrists. "Sif." He grabbed something from beneath his coat and tossed it through the air at her, and she snagged her sword by the hilt reflexively, staring at him. He'd had it all along. Whatever he'd put in that weapons bag had been something else.  
  
"Shall we go, my lady?" he asked.  
  
"You—" she spluttered, anger rising over her surprise. "You utter bastard! You--"  
  
He smirked widely. "Just saved Asgard! You could be a little grateful."  
  
Malekith exploded into fury, realizing the trick had been on him all along. "You saved nothing! I will rip your flesh from your bones, traitor!" He held out his hand, a violet, nearly black blade appearing. It was as long as a sword, but when he pointed it at them, it shot out a bolt of energy.  
  
Sif spun aside and extended the other blade of her weapon, glad for its comforting feel.  
  
But Loki didn't flinch. He held up a hand, palm facing Malekith and redirected the blast right back at him. The blast didn't hit him, but it kicked up an explosion in the ice and rock near his feet. The friendliness and brotherhood dropped out of his expression to reveal open contempt. "I have walked in darker realms than yours, Malekith. You are old and weak."  
  
"KILL THEM!" Malekith howled. The other Dark Elves moved against them, unholstering weapons. "Kill them all!"  
  
"Be glad to!" Loki shot back, and she had to giggle, more in relief than at his snotty jest. He wasn't with Malekith after all.  
  
The Dark Elves had spread out on the ice to keep watch for more Frost Giants, and there were only about thirty of them nearby, with several gone with Algrim to find the attacking giants.  
  
She twirled her weapon and glanced over her shoulder to make sure she had no enemies at her back. Loki was to her left, long dagger in each hand now, his attention still on Malekith in case Malekith attacked with power again. But he seemed to have learned his lesson trying to attack them with seiðr, and hung back, behind a screen of his soldiers, as the rest came after Loki and Sif.  
  
As they waited for the first to attack, she shot a glare at him. "You – you played me!"  
  
He grinned, a flashing bright thing in this dark, chilly place. "I thought you knew!"  
  
The first two came into range, one with a spear and another with a humming energized sword. Sif went after the spear first, leaving the sword for Loki. But the spear wielder was no match and fell quickly to her blade. She whirled to check Loki. His eyes met hers as the Dark Elf he battled fell to the ground between them.  
  
"How was I to know?" she demanded, whirling to deal with another, then when it was down, she glared at him.  
  
He threw a dagger to take another elf in the throat, who was coming up behind him and pulled another from his dimensional pocket. "I called my mother a witch! What more did you need?"  
  
She brought down another two. "You could have warned me!"  
  
"You're a great warrior, Sif, but a poor actor." He ducked a blade meant to take off his head and twirled his daggers into reverse grips, coming up from a crouch to bury the blades in two attackers on either side. One blade stuck in the body and he had to kick it free, making him more of a still target, so she moved closer to help him. Fighting side-by-side, he added, "Besides, you'd have doubted me anyway. The purity of your outrage saved time."  
  
She thought that was probably true, though it didn't make it easier to take that he'd lied to her. This was not the time for long discussions though. "So, what's the rest of your plan?"  
  
"I hoped the Frost Giants would take care of our Dark Elf problem for us, but they're staying back. Most inconsiderate of them. We should go before Algrim returns."  
  
She didn't like to hear his plan involved running away, but she had to concede that standing their ground long enough for the rest of the Dark Elves to come pouring out of the ship was an even worse plan. "Go where?"  
  
"Anywhere but here, for starters?"  
  
"This plan needs work," she complained. "But let's go."  
  
They turned and ran. Sif hoped Loki had some idea where they were going, as he darted around columns that still stood, heading away from the ship and the high cliffs over the deep icy valley to the south.  
  
The Dark Elves pursued them. Rounding another ruin, Loki yanked her sharply back against him and gestured. She saw an image of him and herself jump over a fallen log and head into the icicle-laced forest, just in time for the leading pursuers to see and follow after.  
  
She stayed beside Loki, trying not to breathe, as the pursuit followed. She presumed they would have been invisible if the Svartalfar had looked backward, but she was still tense. Loki's illusions were not always perfect when they covered more than himself.  
  
He watched after the Dark Elves, his left hand still gripping her upper arm but more as if he'd forgotten he was doing it, as he concentrated to keep the spells intact to lure the Dark Elves into the woods.  
  
Then, they were all out of sight, and he leaned his head back against the stone, blowing out a breath silently as he let his shoulders relax and he released her arm.  
  
Eyes catching the dim blue glow from the sky, he examined their surroundings again, and gestured her to follow after him.  
  
This time they didn't run. They walked and kept to cover when they could, careful to walk on ice not loose snow so left fewer prints. They both kept watch all around, for Dark Elves and Giants both.  
  
She put her cloak over her arms, as the wind felt much colder now that she had stopped fighting. "Where are we going?" she asked softly.  
  
"There's a storm on the way. I was hoping for shelter."  
  
"We could call for the Bifrost."  
  
"I doubt it would open. The city shield is up by now. But the convergence is passing. He spoiled his chance." Loki smirked, very satisfied.  
  
A very loud noise over head made her glance upward, as two small versions of the Dark Elf ship darted across the horizon, heading toward the forest. She heard the sounds of more, and she and Loki flung themselves underneath an overhang of ice as another pair flew overhead. Her eyes met his. "So he's going to be extra intent on killing us, you mean?"  
  
"Small drawback," he agreed, but his smile seemed mirthful. "He's going to have to find us first."  
  
A cold wind swirled more strongly beneath their overhang, and she shivered, wishing she'd thought to bring her fur cloak. "We should find that shelter you mentioned. Before we freeze."  
  
He nodded and glanced at the dark sky, though she could see nothing at all up there as the clouds gathered more thickly. There was just enough light to make the first snowflakes look like ashes as they fell.  
  
"This way," Loki decided and headed toward what Sif devoutly hoped was a thoughtful goal, not just a random direction. She also hoped he had better sense of direction than she did, as the snow started to fall harder. The swirling snow covered their tracks, but also made it increasingly likely they might be going in a circle and not even know it.  
  
"Do you know where we're going?" she demanded, raising her voice over the whipping wind. "Are we lost?"  
  
He held out his arm to stop her from moving forward, and she looked down to find herself only steps from the edge, where this plateau suddenly dropped away for the great valley of Jotunheim beneath. They were back at the edge. "Why are we here?" she yelled at him.  
  
"Caves," he answered, and started picking his way along the broken edge.  
  
This was a fantastically terrible idea. Some gust of frigid wind could pluck them right off and dash them to the valley floor. And while maybe they could survive it - though it was a very long way down - Sif would rather not try.  
  
But Loki had other ideas, and she followed him. At least she didn't have to worry about the enemy, since only a fool would try to fly in this weather.  
  
She shivered again, noting Loki rubbed his hands together as if he were also feeling the cold.  
  
Then they found what Loki had been looking for -- a river of ice several hundred feet wide was making its slow journey from the northern mountains behind them to break off and plunge to the valley floor. Because of the instability of the Bifrost when it had caused the massive earthquakes, part of it had broken off 'upstream' and collapsed, leaving a wall of ice and exposed bedrock.  
  
Loki gestured her to stay where she was and he jumped down to stand before the wall that towered high above his head. He lifted his hands and using the slippery words that could never stick in her mind after she heard them, he called seiðr to him, surrounding himself in a halo of green and gold light that shimmered in the ice before him.  
  
The snow stopped falling and she felt warm in the backlash of his power, and hoped Malekith couldn't find them because of it.  
  
But a depression formed, door-sized, pressing into the ice, carving it out, hollowing a cave for them.  
  
She saw him slump tiredly, and the glow went out. She jumped down to him. "Loki!" She grabbed his arm as his knees sagged.  
  
"I am all right, it will pass," he murmured, but didn't pull free. After a moment, he straightened again and headed for the entrance he'd made.  
  
"Inside the glacier?" she asked in disbelief, but followed anyway. "Are you sure it'll hold and not crush us to death?"  
  
"Let's not stay for a hundred years and find out," he advised dryly. Cupping one hand before him he called a pale blue light and led the way into the passage that was just high enough he didn't have to bend his head.

 


	9. JOTUNHEIM

The narrow passage opened up into a hemispherical cavern, as if scooped out and smoothed by a master carver. The layers were visible - blue and white and grey, some clear as water, that reflected the light like huge jewels. She turned amazed. "This is beautiful."   
  
He launched the little light to float at the top. "Ice is easy to manipulate. I suppose I know why now," he said with a wry twist to his lips.   
  
She glanced back down the passage where the snow was falling faster again and the wind howled until Loki closed the outer entrance with a twist of his fingers. He rubbed his hands together briskly, blowing on them. Being out of the wind felt warmer already.  
  
"You could change form," she suggested. "I bet you wouldn't feel cold."   
  
His jaw tightened, but he shrugged. "Possibly, but where's the fun of that?" His smirk was somewhat forced.   
  
"Or," she moved two steps nearer to him, slowly. "We could share some body heat and enjoy our time while we wait for the storm to pass…"   
  
That seemed more welcome to him, and he drawled, "And to think it was only a few hours ago you wanted me dead."   
  
He said it lightly as a tease, but it reminded her of Malekith and Loki's plan. She shook her head in amazement.   
  
"You knew the Svartalfen grievance against us," Sif said. "You knew it was impossible that Malekith would change his mind, and so did the Allfather."   
  
Loki corrected, "Not impossible. But it never seemed likely, no."  
  
She cocked her head to regard him, remembering how he'd claimed that Odin had sent him on this mission to atone and die. He was speaking now as if that wasn't true, and yet how had the two of them expected this quest to succeed? She shook her head. "Asgard killed his entire race, Loki. How would he ever turn aside from vengeance once it was in his grasp?"  
  
Avoiding her eyes, Loki looked down, cupping his hands together to create another glowing sphere. "I knew he was after the aether. I merely had to trick him into going somewhere else for it."   
  
_Merely_. "Risky. What would you have done if he'd agreed with you to go to Asgard first?"  
  
"Stabbed him to death and we would have both died." Loki shrugged. "But I doubted he would. I knew he'd be blinded by the idea of getting what he wanted. Everyone always is."  
  
She shook her head at him. She'd known he liked dangerous games, but this was beyond his usual fare. "Obviously it's not here on Jotunheim. Is it in Asgard then, after all?"  
  
He let the sphere go and it floated up to the ceiling to join its sibling, casting a brighter light on their ice cave. "You cannot reveal what you don't know."   
  
Her mouth opened in offense. "I would never--!"  
  
He raised a quelling hand. "Not willingly, Sif. But there are… methods, and spells that might wrench such information from you." He glanced away, troubled. "I wish I didn't know. The Allfather should not have let me see."   
  
"He wanted to trust you."   
  
Loki's eyes cut to her and away again. "As you did not."   
  
She folded her arms, not willing to take the blame for falling for his trickery. "You didn't trust _me_!" she returned. "You should have let me in on the plan. I could have played traitor, too."  
  
"You?" Loki laughed a little. "You could never pretend to betray Asgard, Sif. The words would get stuck in your throat and you would probably choke and die."   
  
His mood was too light and she was too irritated for this, stuck in this cave where his lights gave off no warmth, only chill. "Would that it had been true of you, too! And never made any of this necessary!"   
  
He turned to her, snarling in a burst of rage, "They betrayed me first."   
  
"Is that your justification for everything?" she demanded. "For murder and betrayal and treason?"   
  
His face went ashen and he stilled as if she'd struck him with a weapon. His eyes flickered from her, as his throat fluttered. His cheekbones seemed sharp as knives by the icy light of his magic, as the expression drained out of his face, leaving a cold mask. "If that's what you feel, I wonder that you came with me in the first place."   
  
He turned and headed straight for the entrance of the cave. "Loki--" she started, though she didn't know what more to say. She wasn't really sorry she'd said it, since it had been true, but it wasn't the right time. If he left, she didn't know where he would go. Back to Malekith? Surely not. But probably not home, either. "Where are you going?"  
  
He didn't answer her. He probably had no answer, besides 'out'. Without looking at her, he said, "When the storm passes, call to Heimdall; he will bring you back to Asgard."   
  
"You can't go out in the storm."   
  
"Actually I can. This is, after all, my homeland." The bitterness in his voice could have cut granite. "With the other irredeemable monsters."   
  
"Loki, wait." She searched for other words, better words. She wished she had a better tongue for this, not her rough warrior's bluntness. "That's not true."  
  
"No? I save Asgard, I turn Malekith aside, I strand him here, but it makes no difference, does it? There is  _nothing_  I can do to change who I am, or what I did." He stood still as a statue, and even though he was right there, only two steps away, she thought he looked lost. As though this was only one of his illusions and the real Loki was somewhere far away from her. After a moment, he admitted in a voice that started soft, but grew filled with vicious loathing, "What I want to do. What I said to Malekith was no lie. Even now I want to watch Asgard burn. I  _hate_  all of them. I hate their perfect bright lives and their ignorance and their strength. I want to tear it all down, shred it, and let the shadows take them."   
  
Unspoken but she knew; he hated them so fiercely because he envied them for things he had lost. All those known smaller envies of Thor's acclaim and the throne, those were symptoms of the deeper wound, kept secret and yet never healed. It had infected his heart with resentment and anger, fear and pain, until there was scarce any light left in it.   
  
More softly, he added, "You  _should_  doubt me. Never believe I don't want it all to be consumed by the void, because I do. I will always be that monster."   
  
Her hand felt the ghostly imprint of his throat beneath it again, and she remembered his voice telling her to end him. As one of the "irredeemable monsters". But she wouldn't believe that, not knowing the truth now. Tyr's monstrous deeds had made a monster, but surely what was made could be unmade.  
  
"When I found you crying with Fenrir that time when we were young, I should have found out what was wrong," she said. She'd done little but think of that moment, knowing she could have shifted everything. "I should have been a better friend. I am sorry."  
  
The words seemed to take him by surprise, blurted out like that without warning and no doubt reminding him of things he'd wished forgotten. Without turning to look at her, his hands fisted at his sides, he answered, "It makes no difference. I would never have told you."   
  
"I should have told the queen there was something wrong. I knew you weren't crying over some stupid lost duel or whatever excuse I made up. And later, when we were together, you reacted so… oddly sometimes…"   
  
"Oddly?" he asked distantly curious. "You never told me that."   
  
"Not in a bad way, just… different. Like how you always tell me I don't have to put my mouth on you." She wanted to slap herself now for being so stupid. That hadn't been simple respect, but a near compulsion to remind her that she had a choice. "I was blinded by my righteousness." She approached him, cautiously feeling her way with the words. "I am not so blind, now, Loki. The Allfather is not perfect, nor always right. I do not deny there is truth to your bitterness and anger – that those who should have kept you safe, failed you. But to make other innocents suffer instead? Where is the justice in that?"   
  
He gave a sharp laugh. "I never claimed it was justice. But any who expect justice out of Asgard are fools."   
  
Parsing that was easy enough. "You... don't believe the Allfather will punish Tyr?"   
  
He shrugged and moved away, pacing along the circumference of the cave even though there was nowhere to go. "No. How can he, Sif? He can never reveal this happened under his nose centuries ago and it went uncaught. His pride will never allow a public airing of such weakness in his  _omniscience_ ," he sneered the last word.  
  
"You think the queen will let him do that? Thor?" Sif asked quietly. "They will demand more."  
  
"Odin let me go, in spite of all I've done. I cannot see how Tyr will face greater punishment than I do, for something that happened so long ago."  
  
He'd obviously thought about it and come to what seemed to be reasoned conclusions, but there was a hint that he was forcing himself to believe that, perhaps because he'd been disappointed before. She might ordinarily agree with his conclusion, but this time, she shook her head. "I think you underestimate the Allfather's anger that Tyr betrayed him and you in this way."  
  
"Fenrir took his hand. What more should there be?" he asked, with a bit of a shrug.   
  
She was disturbed that he didn't want more vengeance, when she wanted to shove a blade through Tyr's throat, but Loki had been suppressing and sublimating his anger at Tyr for a long time now, so perhaps it wasn't a surprise.   
  
"What more? Exposure," she answered incisively. "Exile, banishment, execution -- I don't know, it is not for me to decide, but it is not something that should stay hidden. And I will kill him myself before I let him near any child again."   
  
Loki twitched as if the blunt words struck a memory. He scratched his fingers across the surface of their cave wall, dislodging bits of ice that he watched fall with a greater intensity than they deserved. "We'll see. It matters little now. Ancient history. I barely remember any of it. It was so long ago." He said it dismissively, as if it no longer mattered, attempting to push the memories back in the hole where he kept them.  
  
She might have let him bury them again, but she knew that was no answer. "You remember all of it perfectly," she murmured.   
  
Suddenly he held one of his daggers and plunged it into the packed snow up to the hilt. She started with surprise at the sharp sound. "No," he denied. "No. I do not."   
  
"You do," she insisted. "You try to pretend nothing happened, but it's poisoning you, Loki. All this darkness, this rage--"  
  
" _What do you know about it_?" he shouted, pulling the blade sideways so that a sheet of ice dislodged and shattered on his boots. He slammed the knife again into the wall. "You don't know! You don't know anything!" The dagger went flying from his hand and he attacked the wall, clawing at the ice with both hands. His words turned to screams, heart-rending shrieks, as his fingers tore at the wall in blind fury.   
  
Making that terrible sound, he slammed into the wall, again and again, as if he could somehow dig himself out from under all the layers of pain and memories. The complete loss of control stunned her to see; this was a deep crack running all the way to his soul. She felt helpless, in the face of the depth of this breakdown. What could she do to help  _this_?   
  
She put one foot out to go to him and see if she could stop him, when abruptly, his voice died away. Panting for breath, he collapsed to his knees in the pile of snow and icy shards, slumped over and shaking.  
  
That spurred her to movement and she threw herself down to his side. "Loki."   
  
She wrapped an arm around his back, but he twisted his body, jerking out from under her touch. "Don't."   
  
"Sorry." Pulling her hand back, she stayed near, without touching him. "I don't know, what?" she prompted softly. "I don't know what it was like for you, no. But you can tell me. I will hold it safe, I promise."   
  
He shook his head, hair hanging loose around his face.  
  
"Please, don't you think you've held it in long enough?" she asked. "All these centuries of anger and misery? Lying to yourself as much as to everyone else?" Hesitantly, she reached out and darted a touch to the back of his hand. His skin was so cold from digging in the ice, and she wanted to take both his hands and warm them, but didn't dare touch him more yet. "Haven't you learned yet that lies and secrets are a prison, Loki? They fence you in as surely as that barrier in the dungeons did. Take hold of the truth and set it free."   
  
He didn't speak at first, chest heaving for breath, as he stared at his pale hands, curled limp on his thighs.  
  
"For years I didn't think of it at all," he whispered. "But the Allfather made me relive it all again, and I can't… I can't put it away. I want it gone."  
  
It was a small thing but she thought it was a victory, when he let himself lean into her shoulder. "Of course you do. No one wants to remember that horror, Loki. But putting it in a hole didn't help, did it? It's like putting the tesseract in a box; it's still there, it still influences everything around it. This truth is an infected wound, poisoning your blood and your heart. Share it with me, let me help you carry it."  
  
He shook his head, wearily. But since he didn't speak or move away, she stayed where she was, offering as much silent support as she could.   
  
Finally he stirred, to whisper, "The truth is, it was my own fault."  
  
She lifted her head sharply, confused and alarmed by what he was referring to. There were many things that were his fault, but not that. "What was your fault?" she prompted with soft care.  
  
"I was weak," he confessed, turning his shoulder to her as if he could only speak if he could pretend there was no one around. "I could have fought, I could have told someone, I could have done  _something_. But instead I cried in Fenrir's fur like a baby," he added with a savage self-loathing. "I never resisted. I let it all happen."  
  
Her heart was leaden in her chest, at what he was blaming himself for. "No, no, stop." She rested a hand on his back, stricken when he flinched as if she'd struck him. "Loki, no, that is not so. It was not your fault, never yours."  
  
"I could have stopped him," he insisted. His voice choked in his throat, pale eyes bleak and unseeing. "I could have - I could -"   
  
"No, no, hush." It was a careful, slow process, drawing him to rest his head against hers, with her arms around him. "You were a child," she reminded him. "It was never your fault; you didn't deserve it, or want it, or let it happen. Any thoughts like that are ones he forced on you. You had no choice, no choice at all, against a warrior full-grown and willing to do evil in pursuit of his own twisted desires. He hurt you, and he made you feel helpless and alone. None of that is your fault, Loki." She pressed her lips to his hair and shut her eyes, trying to hold back the sudden wet heat burning there. "None of it," she promised. "You're not alone."   
  
He slumped into her, breath ragged and his body trembling beneath her grip. She held tightly, not willing to let go.   
  
"We'll get through," she whispered. "There will be redemption, and there will be peace. We will find it, I swear." He shook his head against her, in despairing denial, and she hushed him, smoothing his hair. "Yes, yes, there will be."  
  
It took a few minutes for him to gather himself together, but when she felt him tense and start to pull away, she let him go. He turned away, and probably thought she couldn't see him wiping his eyes, before he inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly.   
  
He climbed to his feet, his eyes carefully looking everywhere but where they might meet hers, and he forced a laugh. "Well, that was fun. Let's never do it again."   
  
"Loki..." she protested.   
  
"It's been a long day. The storm is passing and we still need to get rid of Malekith and the ship. Indulging myself in this old drama is wasting our time."  
  
She hesitated, unsure if she should let him get away with putting his walls back up. But she glimpsed his profile, sharp and gaunt in this light, and the lingering slump to his shoulders. He was tired, and as he said, there was still much to do.  
  
"It's important," she murmured. "You're important. Helping you isn't a waste of time. But... you're right, we need to focus on Malekith. Know that I'm with you," she promised and reached out to touch his hand.  
  
He turned his hand to grip her fingers, and she was relieved that he returned the touch. He turned his eyes finally to look at her. "I … am glad of it."  
  
There was more genuine emotion in his hesitant little smile than there had been on his face the entire time between the announcement of Thor's upcoming coronation and his time in the dungeon cell. This was the Loki she remembered from their youth, and she smiled back, pleased to see him return.   
  
"We don't have to go out right this minute," she told him. "We could stay here? Just you and me?" she invited, slanting a look at him and her best flirtatious smile that she knew he enjoyed.   
  
He let go of her hand, and even though he smiled back and raised his brows at her as if intrigued, he shook his head negative. "You are quite a temptress," he murmured. "But… no. I worry that if we give them time to think, they will realize they share an enemy."   
  
"Us." She grimaced. "So you want to make sure they keep fighting each other. How? Find some Frost Giants and ask them politely to help us?"  
  
His smile widened to a smirk and then light flashed over his body, and suddenly a Dark Elf stood there. His voice was still the same, though. "Not  _politely_ , no."   
  
She couldn't help grinning. "Now that is the best idea you've had in ages."  
  
The Dark Elf illusion of Loki grinned back. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You were a far better idea."   
  
She laughed, and for a moment everything felt perfect.


	10. ASGARD

****  
  
Frigga did not want to see Tyr with the knowledge she held now. She did not want to look at someone she had believed to be a loyal friend, someone she had given the cup to at the feast numerous times and bestowed one of her flowers on him for bravery never knowing that he had betrayed her trust in such a vile way.  
  
She did not want to look on him ever again. But nor did she want Odin and Thor to confront him without her, so she joined them on the way to the dungeon to see Tyr.  
  
The Warriors Three were with them to provide extra security, and because they already knew the truth. Hogun and Fandral stayed behind her, as Thor paced his father up ahead, with other Einharjar trailing behind and left at the main doors.  
  
She held Volstagg's arm, grateful that this old friend at least was true. He caught her glance at him, and his other hand came up to pat the back of her hand gently in sympathy. "Aye, my queen, I am with you always," he promised, his voice a deep rumble.   
  
"Thank you, Volstagg. It eases my heart to know we have true friends."   
  
She looked inside the empty cell where Loki had been as they walked past it, picturing him at the little table scribbling those words of farewell in the poetry book, even then keeping back the truth. Yet if it hadn't finally fallen free, he might be in there still, consumed by his pain and anger.  
  
The party's slow steps halted before the smaller cell where Tyr stood. He saw Odin had come and though the shock passed through him at the sight, he immediately sank to one knee. "My king, I--"  
  
Odin's voice was like stone. "I did not give you leave to speak."  
  
Tyr nodded and swallowed hard, bowing his head.   
  
Odin continued, "This is not a trial. Your guilt has already been determined."  
  
Tyr looked up at that. "With evidence from the Trickster himself? My king, you know he has always hated me. Even before his pet viciously attacked me, he resented me. Whatever you think I did, I swear I never did anything against you. My loyalty to you and Asgard is true."   
  
Unmoved, Odin glowered at him. "I know the truth, Tyr. Do not seek to muddle it with half-truths and false accusations."  
  
"But it is the truth, my king, I swear! I am loyal to you, always. We are companions, warriors together..." He tried to smile at Odin, coax him into forgiveness. Frigga clenched her hands, a seed of power in her fists that she fed her anger so she could keep from lashing out and burning Tyr to ash.  
  
Volstagg had no such restraint, growling in fury, "Do not claim to be a warrior. Warriors do not torment children. Warriors have  **honor** , and you have none."   
  
"I would never--!" Tyr started in outrage and horror, and if not for knowing the truth, Frigga might have believed his performance.  
  
Odin ordered, "Thor, open the cell."   
  
Tyr looked hopeful that he was about to be released, but Frigga knew there was no chance of that. She waited patiently, glad she was here to see this, and only a little sorry that Loki was not.   
  
The moment the front barrier died away, Tyr started to rise, smiling in relief. Odin stepped forward, Gungnir shining and twirling. The spear caught Tyr behind the knees, sweeping him off his feet and dumping him on his back to stare up at the king, stunned.  
  
Gungnir's point was set at his throat, glowing like the sun on snow. "Had you been truly loyal," Odin said, "you would have come to me and said you could not teach him. That your hate was too strong to be just. But you did not. Instead, you pretended to be my loyal companion and servant, and you lied to me. In secret you punished my son for something that was never his fault. You hurt him and, worse, you enjoyed it."  
  
"That thing is not your son!" Tyr spat at him, face twisting in hate. "It never was."   
  
Frigga put a hand to her chest as her heart shattered into a million pieces, hearing the echo of Loki's own words.   
  
Odin did not react except to tighten his hand on Gungnir. "So you stand revealed," he murmured. "But that is not enough. So though I would rather swim in a midden than touch your thoughts, you will clasp Gungnir in your hand. And I will know the full truth."  
  
Tyr stared up at him now with wide terrified eyes, finally understanding that cold death was staring back at him. "N-no, my lord, please, you would never require that of me, I promise whatever you believe I've done, it is all lies…"  
  
"Hold the haft and open your mind," Odin ordered. "You have seen what happens to those who resist, Tyr. Do not choose that path. I have little mercy in me today."  
  
When Tyr still didn't lift his hand, Thor knelt down beside him, lip curled in disgust. "You are a coward, Tyr. A dishonorable traitorous coward, who preyed upon someone who could not resist. You make me ill that I ever considered you worthy of my attention." He grabbed Tyr's wrist, and Tyr tried futilely to pull free, struggling so he wouldn't touch Gungnir.   
  
Thor inexorably forced Tyr's hand onto the spear and his fingers to curl around the haft, holding his own hand on top of Tyr's.  
  
"Thor, let go!" Frigga called, realizing Thor's danger. If he was still holding Tyr's hand when Odin initiated the contact, Thor would be privy to everything as well.  
  
Thor pulled away as Gungnir blazed with power, and both king and prisoner were caught within it.   
  
For a few heartbeats, during which no one dared speak, they all watched. Tyr's eyes were enormous, staring into the blinding white light, while the brightness made Odin look nearly transparent.  
  
The king groaned and then abruptly wrenched Gungnir free. The glow died, and the king staggered away into the wall, chest heaving breath. Tyr collapsed to the floor, limp, and Frigga could not bring herself to care if he was still alive or not.  
  
Thor went to Odin, anxious, as Odin leaned heavily on Gungnir with both hands. "Father!"   
  
"Do not, my son, I will not tarnish you," Odin shrugged him away. "Such…  _filth_  in his soul." He slowly turned to look down at a Tyr with his glowering eye.   
  
Tyr stirred from his daze. "That monster has you in thrall!" Tyr cried hoarsely, desperation shining in his face as he pushed himself up on one elbow.  
  
Odin held his temper, beard quivering with rage as he clenched his jaw, but he kept his voice level. "You call Loki monstrous, and his deeds have been terrible and dark. Yet his heart is purity itself compared to the  _sickness_  in yours. You took him apart to create a reflection of  _yourself."_  The king's revulsion was so great he could not bear to continue to look at Tyr, returning to the corridor.   
  
"Replace the barrier. He will remain until I sentence him, when Loki returns," he ordered curtly. "We are done here."   
  
Thor hurried out of the cell and Hogun activated the barrier, as Tyr struggled up to his knees. He called after them, "You should have killed the creature! He is no son of yours, he is --"  
  
Frigga whipped back around to face the cell, her hand extended and teeth gritted together. She twined seiðr around Tyr and brought the threads together, snapping her fingers into a fist. His voice choked to silence. Tyr put his hand to his throat, as if that would help, and she moved close enough to the barrier to feel its hum against her skin as she glared at him coldly. "When you scorn Loki, you scorn  _me_. A sword can only kill you. But I can make you know nothing but pain and fear the rest of your days. So you had best pray to your ancestors for the king's mercy because I promise you will get none from me."  
  
Tyr looked pale and a little shocked as if he had forgotten her power. She longed to continue the reminder and set him on fire with forbidden spells, but let Odin call her away.  
  
"Thank you, my queen," Odin said. "His raving was hard to hear." Slowly they climbed the steps to exit the dungeon chamber. In the hall outside, he stopped and admitted wearily, "I must rest for a short while. This has been a difficult day. Thor, I leave the Realm in your hands. The height of the convergence has passed, and I believe Loki and Sif were successful, but keep a wary eye at our borders. Malekith is not the only one who may attempt a crossing."  
  
Thor bowed his head. "Father."   
  
Frigga left her son and the Warriors Three, and walked with Odin back to his chamber. He didn't head toward the bed, but instead to the chaise before the view of the city.   
  
"So?" she prompted softly, sitting beside him. "What did you learn and not wish them to hear?"  
  
"More. None of it good. I think the most important one for you to know..." He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Tyr found Loki in the final days of the war; he was the one who put the baby on the altar to have him suffer and die, not Laufey. Laufey thought his son was dead because he was missing from where he had been hidden, not because he had sacrificed the baby to their gods."   
  
"Oh, no." She gasped, not only for the horror of knowing Tyr had tried to kill a helpless baby but with the realization that Loki had never been left to die as she and Odin had always believed. Loki should know that. Yet how could they tell Loki that he had slain his blood father, angry at an offense that had not happened? Yet she could not keep another secret from him, especially when knowing Laufey had not abandoned him might ease his fears.  
  
Odin continued, his voice low for her ears alone. "Tyr was never completely certain that baby was Loki, but he believed it - his earliest abuse was attempting to force Loki to admit the truth or to show his true form. But when that failed, he'd had too much of a taste of the power to stop." He shook his head slowly. "There were no others, but I can scarcely feel glad about that, feeling his delight - his  _hunger_  for what he did." He shut his eye and his shoulders slumped. "This is a terrible thing," he whispered, "to have shared these memories about my own son."   
  
She caressed the soft white hair, and let him lean against her, feeling her own heartsick weariness. "It seems as if all the secrets are coming forth all at once. We will struggle through, and help Loki as much as we can when he returns."   
  
His hand gripped her forearm. "How did I not see him?" he asked hoarsely. "This viper and his poison…"  
  
"I did not see him either, husband. We believed what he showed us."  
  
He shook his head, more in despair and anguish than negating anything she said, but said nothing more, consumed by his thoughts and regrets. She wondered if he would fall into Odinsleep to escape the trials of the day, but he held on, apparently unwilling to seek that solace even in his exhaustion.  
  
She patted him and offered her strength, but she knew there would be no solace for her until Loki returned. 

* * *

 

 


	11. JOTUNHEIM/ASGARD

**JOTUNHEIM**    
  
Provoking the Frost Giants in Dark Elf guise had seemed such a good idea, Sif reflected, as she and Loki ran. The plan was supposed to be "poke Frost Giants with Svartalfen-shaped stick and watch as Frost Giants go kill Dark Elves." In practice, they had forgotten to consider the middle part: being pursued by at least twenty armed and furious Frost Giants. Across ice. Toward Dark Elves.  
  
She laughed, because what kind of absurd story was this going to be? Her laugh felt like it went backwards in her throat, when her foot slipped and she nearly fell, stumbling to one knee and then pelting after Loki again. He laughed at her.  
  
"No fair. You're using some magic to keep your feet!" she accused him.   
  
He glanced back over his shoulder at her, blue Svartalfen eyes not as bright as his teeth in a grin. "I'm graceful." But he caught sight of their pursuers o behind her. "They're gaining!"  
  
She ran faster, half slipping with each step, until she was running in a barely-upright state of almost skating. Her next boots she would put in retractable spikes for traction.  
  
Loki turned to face their pursuers, hands blazing with green fire that he hurled at the ice behind them. She didn't know if that was meant to attack them, break the ice, or melt it, but it seemed to do little to slow the giants down.   
  
He swore. "Sif, hurry!" he shouted.  
  
She was already running as fast as she could, and decided she might as well hurl herself into a slide. She launched herself to land on both feet, slightly turned, sliding fast across the slippery ice field.   
  
But the ice grew rough and she stumbled out of the slide, trying to run again.  
  
A deep voice called out something from ahead of them, and she looked up to see Dark Elves coming led by Algrim. Loki called something back in their language and Algrim sent his contingent forward to attack the Frost Giants.   
  
She glanced to Loki in alarm that he was going closer. This wasn't going to work. This bluff was never going to work. But she saw the reckless glint in Loki's eyes and knew he wasn't going to stop, pushing the illusion as far as he could, as the Dark Elves passed them.  
  
Algrim got nearer, and she stood aside and bowed her head respectfully, trying to be completely insignificant and not test Loki's illusion too strongly.  
  
He hurried right past, weapon drawn, and she smiled in relief. Until he turned back around. "Your weapon."   
  
She glanced at her glaive. Even if he didn't recognize it in its extended version, it was not a Svartalfen weapon.  
  
"I found it, my lord," she answered, eyes downcast, hoping he bought the bluff. Her hand tightened.   
  
He walked nearer, squinting suspiciously. No, this was never going to work. "Oh hell," she muttered and swung. The instant her blade struck his armor, the illusion over her dispersed.   
  
"Aesir!" he exclaimed and counter-attacked.  
  
"Sif!" Loki yelled. His haste betrayed him though, and for the first time, his feet slipped out from under him. He slammed backwards to the ice, as other Dark Elves realized who he was and started his way.   
  
Sif wanted to help, but Algrim didn't give her any opportunity. He was skilled and strong, and she didn't have her shield, only her long double-blades for a longer reach and to keep back the dagger in his other hand. He found the footing just as treacherous, and that kept the tempo of the fight slower than it would have been.   
  
"We will eliminate you, Aesir vermin, and haul the traitor to Malekith's dungeon where he will suffer for a thousand years."   
  
But he was too focused on her, not on their surroundings. "Not if the Jotunn have anything to say about it," she told him, and then smiled, throwing herself to one side as the Frost Giant came up behind Algrim and a huge fist punched him across the ice.   
  
Rolling, she came up, looking around frantically for Loki. He had regained his feet also, and was fighting three Dark Elves, as all around the Frost Giants clashed with the elves.   
  
The one who had hit Algrim came after her with a snarl on its face and those blazing red eyes. The eyes were less unsettling to her now that she'd seen Loki with those eyes, but one giant was still a fearsome foe.   
  
She battled it, keeping clear of its grip and shattering its ice weapon with her blade before stabbing it in the side, and whirling to block a Dark Elf at her back.   
  
Loki had worked his way to her and took another of her attackers from behind. He called to her with a wild grin, "How long do you think we'll last?"   
  
"Longer than they will," she shouted back and he laughed, throwing himself into a short slide to avoid a spear bolt.   
  
But, looking at the numbers of the enemies, she had to admit that they were only two against many, and Loki's usual strategy of illusion was of little use on the empty field. He was holding his own, hand to hand, so far, but it was not going to avail him for long. He would tire, make a mistake, and an enemy blade would spill his red blood all over the white snow. Which was, she believed, the end he had expected from the beginning of this quest.  
  
But that was not the end she wanted. Not after all of this. Even as she fought two more Dark Elves, bringing them down with one perfect twirl of her blade, she whispered so Loki couldn't hear, "Heimdall. Send help."  
  
She looked toward the city and the ship, to find another group of Dark Elves approaching, this one led by Malekith himself.  
  
They were about to be overwhelmed.   
  


* * *

  
  
**ASGARD**    
  
  
Thor hurried to the receiving hall on word that the king had summoned him. He was glad the king had stirred and retaken command; Thor had gone to inspect the defenses and cheer morale, but he knew he had little knowledge in leading this sort of defensive battle. Freyr, as Warmaster, had charge of the tactics. Thor had found himself nodding and smiling at whatever Freyr had said, his mind wandering to Loki and Sif, wishing he was with them instead.  
  
The king sat in his great throne, looking improved by his short rest. He sent his aides away to speak to Thor alone.  
  
"As I thought, Loki and Sif succeeded in turning Malekith's ship aside, yet now they are caught between the jotnar and Malekith's force," Odin said. "You must assist them. And then bring them home."   
  
Thor made a fist, excited that he was being sent to them finally. "Yes!" Then hastily he cleared his throat, knowing that wasn't exactly appropriate response to have. "I, uh, of course, I do not wish them harm but it's good news that they have averted the attack."   
  
Odin's smile was nearly hidden by his beard. "It is." But when Thor turned to leave, Odin lifted his free hand and called him back, "Thor."   
  
Thor turned back, curious. Odin hesitated and said in a lower voice. "Loki will resist returning. Tell him there will be justice. I trusted him, now he must trust me. Now, go with haste."  
  
Thor nodded and left. In the corridor outside, he met his mother, who seemed to be rushing to meet him. She gripped his arm, looking urgent. "Be cautious, my son," she chided him. "Help them, but return yourself."  
  
"Of course," he reassured her.  
  
"And remind Loki of his promise to me."  
  
"Promise?" he asked curiously.  
  
She smiled and patted his cheek. "He made me a promise. When it seems he will not return, remind him of it."   
  
She was obviously not going to tell him, though he was worried that she and Odin both believed Loki would not return home. Thor decided he would force Loki back to Asgard if he had to; better to deal with Loki's anger than to have him vanish into the undercrofts of the universe again. "As you wish."   
  
Her smile faded, looking into his eyes, and said nothing. "Mother?" he prompted, uncertain.  
  
She shook her head a little. "Nothing. Just thinking that I could not bear it if both of you had been harmed." Her hands came together, fingers weaving anxiously, as she turned away, as if she could barely endure the thought of one son so hurt.  
  
Thor felt that he would never have let it happen to himself, but then, before this, he would have said Loki wouldn't either. There was so much he didn't understand, but he wanted his mother to be happy again. He leaned in close to kiss her cheek. "I will bring him home, Mother, I promise."  
  
She nodded, but still looked troubled. "Then we will all help him heal. And to heal our family of all that has torn it asunder, in these recent days."  
  
"Not torn," he corrected, "Cracked, perhaps, but we all live, and cracks can be mended." Thor wanted Loki back as his brother, not the rage-filled stranger who had taken his place on Midgard. It might take time, but at least, knowing the terrible truth, he thought he had a chance to make it happen.  
  
"Then go on," she urged him. "I await your return most anxiously."  
  
He bowed to her and hurried down the corridor to make his way to the Observatory.  
  
There, Heimdall informed him with unsettling calm, that Sif had called for him to send help. Since Sif would only ask for help if they were in dire trouble, Thor swung Mjolnir and told him, "Send me to them."  
  
Heimdall was already prepared, having lowered the shield so that the Bifrost seized Thor and hurled him through the branches of Yggdrasil. 


	12. JOTUNHEIM

* * *

  
  
Thor landed hard, and straightened quickly, Mjolnir ready. Frost Giants were close, as were what he presumed were Svartalfen, though he'd never seen one before. They were Aesir-sized, thankfully, white haired, and as he watched a Giant skewer one, their armor did not seem all that strong or powerful.  
  
He turned to look for his brother and Sif. There, taking the limited high ground of an ice-covered rocky rise only a few feet higher than the surrounding plain of ice, Sif and Loki fought together, Dark Elves surrounding them.   
  
Thor threw Mjolnir to knock their opponents away to more manageable numbers, catching her return, as both sets of enemies turned to face him. He grinned at them and slammed the hammer down on the snowy field around him. The shockwave sent up bits of rock and shards of ice and knocked his enemies off their feet for many paces, all around.  
  
Up on his little promontory, Loki was watching. "NO! You idiot!" he yelled. "NO!"   
  
Loki was always angry when Thor did something to end the battle all at once. He complained whenever he thought Thor was being overdramatic and reckless, but really, Thor thought Loki ought to approve, since he also didn't like it when Thor extended the battle just to enjoy himself.   
  
All around him those Dark Elves and Frost Giants, who had not fallen in the shockwave, were backing away from him, and he turned his eyes up to Loki and Sif, grinning.   
  
But they looked alarmed, not happy, and Thor's smile vanished as a strange crackling and groaning sound was growing louder and closer to him. He turned in place to see giant cracks appearing all around him. He was in no particular danger himself, as he wound Mjolnir to fly. But the rock promontory where his brother and Sif stood, wobbled as a crevice opened up beneath them.  
  
He threw Mjolnir quickly, trying to get to Loki and Sif. He crashed into them, and tried to grab them both against his chest one-handed. Everything gave way, with a thunderous roar, collapsing beneath them. They fell.  
  
He hit something hard, and felt Loki and Sif get torn out of his grip, but the cold wind rushing against his skin of a fall became a bumpy ride in the darkness, half-slide, half-fall, tumbling down some tunnel or crack in the ancient glacier. He yelled and managed to keep his grip on Mjolnir, but had no way to orientate himself in the dark to stop his wild tumble. He slammed into something soft, briefly, and tried to grab whoever it was, but lost them again, as his head slammed against something and he plummeted in free fall, tumbling again.  
  
Then the ride came to an abrupt stop, smashing into something that yielded more than ice. He wasn't sure he'd actually stopped, but then after a moment, he stopped yelling to pant for breath. There was softness against his fingers, and with a bit more exploration figured out it was Loki's coat.  
  
Someone coughed. "Someone's elbow is on my throat," Sif said hoarsely. And Thor smiled realizing she was in this pile as well.  
  
"I'd be glad to move," Loki answered, voice wheezing, "But I think either my oaf of a brother, or Mjolnir, or both, are squeezing the breath out of me."   
  
A blue flicker formed casting a thin watery light, and Thor saw their predicament. He had in fact smashed both his brother and Sif against a wall, and Mjolnir was against Loki's chest between them. Moving carefully in case the ice was still fragile or could dump them down another chute, Thor pulled back and took Mjolnir away, offering Loki a hand that he disdained.  
  
He was a little surprised when Loki turned and offered a hand to Sif, and she took it with a smile. "Are you hurt?" she asked him as he put his other hand to his chest as if to check that he had all his ribs intact.  
  
"No," he answered and turned a familiar glower on Thor. "No thanks to you. What are you even doing here?"  
  
Thor glanced at Sif, who looked tense that he might reveal that she had called for help. So he answered with the truth, if only part of it. "Father sent me. He said you were in trouble."  
  
Loki glanced around the chamber deliberately, strengthening his blue flicker into a more brightly glowing sphere so they could see that they'd found a dead end. Their only way out appeared to be the way they'd come in, an upward facing slide that even from here looked ridiculously steep and slippery. "You've improved our situation so well."   
  
"I didn't know it was ice!" Thor defended himself. "And there are no enemies down here, so I did help."  
  
"We're stuck hundreds of meters below the surface in the middle of a glacier. Marvelous help."   
  
Sif retrieved her glaive from the floor and put it away with a snap. "Loki, stop. We need to focus on getting out. Can you melt the ice like you did before?"  
  
"I could, but I have to touch it," he pointed to the jagged but solid looking roof overhead. "Thor could fly out I suppose, but he can't carry both of us."  
  
Thor considered correcting that - he  _could_  carry both of them, but it would be difficult from a standing start up a narrow chimney. But perhaps if he smashed their way out… Luckily before he suggested it aloud, he realized the debris would fall back on them and fill the chamber. "So perhaps a more horizontal slant?" Thor suggested, gesturing what he meant. "I can help by blocking the way behind us as we climb, so we don't slide back down."  
  
Loki's skeptical look said that he thought that was a terrible idea, but since he had none better, he heaved an aggravated sigh. "Fine. Magic. Nobody likes it until it's  _useful_ ," he muttered and tilted his head back to squint at the ceiling as if he was looking beyond it.   
  
The words reminded Thor of how Frigga had terrified Tyr in his cell with the threat of her magic, and what Thor knew of what Tyr had done. Thor's voice went hoarse, "Loki."   
  
Curious, Loki returned his eyes to Thor, and when Thor was still trying to find more words, Loki grimaced. "Oh no. I see it in your face – they told you."   
  
"Loki, I--" Thor began earnestly, but Loki interrupted with a sharply upraised hand.  
  
"Stop." In a hard voice Loki declared, with eyes narrowed at him, "I do not want your sympathy. I do not want your apologies. And I most assuredly do not want your  _pity_. So just.... say nothing."  
  
"But, brother--"  
  
"Shut up. I don't want to hear it."   
  
From behind Loki, Sif shook her head negative at Thor in warning, and after a hesitation he agreed, "All right. If that is what you wish."   
  
Loki turned around sharply enough to make his coat-tails flare. "Yes, it is." He faced the nearest wall and put both hands on the ice. A greenish aura flared within the ice and it melted out of his way. Or not melted, because there was no water, instead it parted for him, moving out of his way with a near magnetic smoothness.  
  
Loki continued, making a narrow tunnel, so that the light effect of his magic shimmered all around him as if in crystal. It was beautiful.   
  
Thor let him get a little way ahead before murmuring to Sif, "Is he – all right?"   
  
" _I can hear you_ ," Loki snarled impatiently over his shoulder. "I am fine. I appreciate this comes as a shocking surprise to everyone else, but I have lived with it half my life. I am very tired of talking about it. So could you both be quiet while I focus on getting out of here and putting Malekith's head on a spike?"  
  
He didn't wait for their assent, starting to march forward again, angling the tunnel upward.   
  
Sif's gaze met Thor's and she made a face, with a little shrug, that seemed to indicate no, Loki wasn't all right, but there wasn't much they could do about it right now. Thor's eyes went to Loki's back and he frowned.  
  
As if he could hear the silent concern batted between Sif and his brother, Loki let out a loud aggrieved sigh. "You both are insufferable."   
  
"We care about you, Loki," Sif reminded him.   
  
"Do it more quietly. I need to concentrate. This is not as easy as it looks."   
  
Which was not a happy thought for Thor, when it didn't look easy at all. And it seemed to get more difficult still, with the ice parting more grudgingly and Loki moving more slowly.   
  
Until Sif hurried to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Loki, enough. Take a rest."   
  
"I'm fine. I can finish." He shrugged her off, squared his shoulders, and put his hands on the ice again. But nothing happened.   
  
Loki tried again and a faint glow formed under his hands. The ice melted back a hand-span and he slumped against the wall, panting for breath.   
  
"Rest, you idiot." Sif coaxed him down to sit on the floor, legs outstretched before him as he let his head sink back against the wall.   
  
"I feel it, but it's like water, slipping out of my reach…"   
  
Sif smoothed his hair and the side of his face. "Hush. Close your eyes. We're safe here, you can take whatever time you need."   
  
Thor watched this in some amazement. He'd rarely seen Sif so openly affectionate, or Loki accept such a gesture, for that matter. "You two…" he started.   
  
Loki's eyes flicked open, went to Sif, and he answered lightly, "She came to keep me out of trouble."   
  
But Sif shook her head. "It's okay, remember what I said?" she told Loki and explained to Thor. "We're together."   
  
"Together?  _Together_  together?" he asked, voice cracking in his astonishment.   
  
"Pity mostly, I expect," Loki muttered, and Sif smacked his arm.  
  
"It is not." She sat down at his side, shoulder to shoulder, a hand casually on his leg, then looked to Thor with a smile. "Did you bring anything to drink?" she asked as if the news that Sif and Loki were together was not the second-biggest shock of Thor's day. "I could use a mug of something strong."  
  
But she had no intention to talk about it, and Loki seemed to want to sleep, so Thor let out a sigh and decided to play along. They were stuck in this narrow ice tunnel, with only Loki's floating glow to keep them out of the dark. So he would have to keep spirits up and avoid awkward or painful subjects, which left… court gossip.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Sif knew Thor's chatter wouldn't last, and eventually he stopped in the middle of making some desultory jest about Volstagg's beard to ask, "Loki, please, can we not talk about it?"   
  
Loki's eyes flicked open and he jumped to his feet. "No. We cannot." Sif wanted to hit Thor on the head with her sword hilt for interrupting his rest.  
  
"But--"  
  
Loki cut him off. "There is not one thing you can say that will change anything."  
  
"I know," Thor said miserably.  
  
"I suppose I should be gratified by all the attention and sympathy, but it also reminds me that it's all a few centuries  _too late_."  
  
Sif winced at the pointed reminder, but Loki didn't notice as he turned back to the depression in the wall.   
  
"You blame me," Thor murmured. "For not seeing."   
  
"No, of course not," Loki answered quickly, but paused, lowering his hands. "I blame everyone." Without turning his head he added, with a sigh, "No. I don't know. I shouldn't blame you for not seeing what I was hiding, should I? I kept it a secret."  
  
That reminded her of when he'd broken down, blaming himself for letting it happen and twisting up inside to make it all his fault. She bit her lip on an urge to tell him that it was all right to be angry at other people for not noticing - it was not as if his pretense had been  _that_ perfect.  
  
Loki returned his hands to the ice and called the power again, silencing any attempt at continuing the conversation.   
  
Thor seemed sorrowed, and Sif patted his arm in sympathy. This wasn't easy on any of them.   
  
Loki ignored them completely, continuing to force a path into the ice until the character of the ice changed and he stopped, frowning and holding a hand above his head. "The surface is close now. I think you can bash us free without burying us now."   
  
He retreated back down the tunnel aways, bringing Sif with him, as Thor nodded, took a firm grip and swung Mjolnir upward. The ice splintered and crashed, falling down over him, but he kept swinging, pulverizing it and climbing onto the resultant pile, higher and higher until at last a cold wind announced that he'd broken through.   
  
"Come up!" he shouted at them. "We're clear."   
  
Sif scrambled up the pile, shoving snow and ice bits aside to clear the way, and then out, relieved to be in the open air again. Even if the open air was a lot colder than the tunnel had been.   
  
Loki was right after her, warily scanning their surroundings.  
  
"So?" she asked. "Do you know where the hell we are?"   
  
"Not far from the city ruin, which is that way--"   
  
Then it didn't matter as a Dark Elf blasterbolt shot out from that direction and Sif saw a group of warriors had found them already. Thor caught the bolt on Mjolnir and sent it back, sending the knot of warriors flying. He glanced at her, grinning, with his eyes alight with the excitement of new battle. "You seem to have lost your shield."  
  
"I didn't lose it!"   
  
But that was all the time she had for light-heartedness, as she saw Loki wade into the melee, striking with magic and daggers with a fluid fury that was both reckless and yet held her eyes as something… beautiful, too. Thor also briefly lowered his hammer to watch, before they both rushed after him as Algrim and Malekith showed up to attack.   
  
"I've got this one," Thor declared, hurling Mjolnir right at Algrim. "You help Loki."  
  
She nodded, and fleet-footed on the ice, she ran, glaive extended, as Malekith came at him with a pair of short swords.   
  
"Why are you loyal to these butchers?" Malekith demanded in fury. "They are not your blood. Not your kind. They are monsters!"   
  
Loki hesitated then he shrugged. "So am I." He threw a dagger, which Malekith batted away with a sword. But the motion left him open and he did not expect Loki to have another dagger. It took him in the gap in his armor at his left shoulder, and he cried out, having to drop the sword in that hand.   
  
Loki smirked, as he moved in, twirling two daggers in his hands. Sif battled a few elves trying to get to their leader, keeping them back. Meanwhile Thor was rather merrily mowing down other ranks of Dark Elves, having slammed Algrim into the ground.   
  
"Get the  _ship_!" Loki yelled at him, when he saw what Thor was doing. Thor nodded and moved nearer to the mothership, to start throwing Mjolnir at it. That left warriors for Sif to keep away from Loki, but there were not so many she couldn't keep an eye on him as well.   
  
"No!" Malekith pulled Loki's dagger from his shoulder and rushed at Loki. Visibly rolling his eyes, Loki stayed where he was, letting Malekith run into him, sword extended.  
  
The illusion dissolved into a shimmer of golden light. "You spent too long in the darkness," Loki taunted from five steps away to the left. "I pity your losses and the fall of your people. And my hate for Asgard still burns my soul. All that was true. But I cannot follow you into this."  
  
With a sudden shift from defensive position as he talked, he went on the offensive, kicking Malekith in the abdomen and then whirling around to hit him in the face with his elbow and then a strike upward with his other hand. Malekith blocked that, but not the reverse strike that followed right after that and Loki plunged his dagger into Malekith's neck.  
  
His hand still tight on the hilt, pressing it up into throat and grinding the blade against his neck vertebrae, he said to Malekith in a soft, intense voice, looking into his eyes directly. "Killing you makes me no less a monster. I know that. But at least you won't be murdering children today."  
  
He pulled the dagger out and shoved Malekith backwards with the other hand, as the blood fountained from the deep lethal wound.   
  
A terrible cry rose up among the Dark Elves seeing that their leader had fallen.  
  
Sif tensed, fearing they would all rush Loki, but they did something quite different: all of them, one by one as they saw what had happened, dropped to their knees, threw down their weapons, lifted their heads to the sky, and started to sing a low song of grief. Some of the Jotunn took advantage, killing their opponents immediately, but after a moment, withdrew from the sudden surrender. What Sif could see of them on the far side of the field, they looked as shaken and confused as she felt.  
  
Loki turned, looking shocked by this turn of events, and he let the bloodied dagger fall from his hand to the snow. He walked to join Sif, having to pass several Dark Elves on the way, and not one lifted a weapon or even seemed to notice his presence.  
  
Sif looked at them and told Loki softly, "I feel like we should… do something for them. But I don't know what."  
  
"I scarcely think they want anything from us," he murmured back.   
  
"We should go. The Frost Giants could still attack. We don't want to stay here."  
  
They moved away from the mourning Svartalfar, and Thor came to meet them, boisterous in mood. "We have won a great victory! No,  _you_  have won a great victory, brother!"   
  
"Is it?" Loki asked distantly. "This doesn't feel like a great victory to me."   
  
Thor made a move to seize Loki's shoulder, but Loki stepped back, making it clear he didn't want to be touched. Thor's hand dropped to his side, but he found a grin. "It is. Malekith is dead, the aether remains protected, and Asgard is safe."   
  
Loki shrugged, unimpressed. His eyes looked out on the kneeling Svartalfar, and the bloodied corpses strewn across the snow, finding Malekith's. "I only wanted to stop him," he murmured. "Not this."   
  
"We'll send help, Loki," Sif reassured him softly. "The Bifrost can send them back to Svartalfheim."  
  
"Where they'll die as surely as they'll die here."   
  
"You said yourself there's nothing anyone can do about that." She hoped that he had been lying about that, but the hope was dashed when he shook his head in sorrowful agreement.  
  
"Then it's time to go home," Thor said.   
  
It wasn't really a surprise for Sif when Loki refused bluntly, "No."   
  
But she still turned to him. "What do you mean? Why not? The Allfather promised--"  
  
That sparked his temper, and he cut her off, sneering, "And yes, I know the value of his promises, don't I? I have no intention of going back there so he can pretend none of this ever happened."   
  
Blue eyes somber, Thor said, "Loki, he told me, before I came to help you- he knew you would be reluctant and he reaffirmed his promise that Tyr would find justice--"  
  
Loki let out a sharp laugh and drawled sarcastically, "Of course he will."   
  
"With Thor and I and the queen knowing about it, how do you think he could refuse?" Sif demanded.   
  
Loki's icy eyes flicked between the two of them, and he said, "How do you think I would ever return there? Is he going to wave Gungnir around and make everyone forget how he paraded me through the Great Hall in chains to announce that only my mother's tears spared my life? Or will he humiliate me again in front of the hall with the revelation of what he never cared about enough to notice in the first place? No." Loki gestured sharply in negation. "I pass."  
  
"It doesn't have to be that way," Sif implored him. "No one else needs to know… We can all go back--"  
  
"Go back to  _what_?" Loki demanded furiously. "How it was before I went wrong? Isn't that what you all think? Except I went wrong a long time ago. I was just pretending!"  
  
He spat the words at her, then whirled away from both of them, chest heaving for breath.   
  
Thor murmured, "You were pretending all was well, when it was not. But you are not wrong, those are Tyr's words. And they were never true."  
  
Not looking at them, Loki scoffed, "You stand here, where the snow is awash in blood that I spilled, and you say that? You are a fool."  
  
Sif would have protested that, as this fight was not his fault, but Thor had a different tactic. "Do you know how I know how deeply he hurt you?" Thor asked quietly. "Because you still flinch at the word  _creature_." Sif saw him do it again, proving Thor's point, even though he immediately stiffened to prevent it from happening again. "You took his hate inside you, you believed it, even though he was the one who was wrong. I know mere words cannot undo all the harm he did, but they are all I have -- please, Loki, you are my brother, and I would give anything to have you home again."   
  
"Listen to him," Sif added, trying to get the truth into Loki's thick head. "We can go home. You're seeing only the worst possibilities, but there are others. We can fix it. You and I, Loki, we can find--"   
  
"Sif." He interrupted strongly, and lifted a hand to his stomach as if he felt ill before lowering the hand again. He didn't meet their eyes, as he admitted wearily, "I know you both care. I do. But you both need to… stop. I'm not like you, I will never be like you and I am so tired of trying."   
  
"Why do you think that's what we want?" Sif asked softly. "Why can't we want you, just for you?"  
  
His brief laugh was pained. "Because no one would."   
  
"Oh, Loki," she reached out for him, but he avoided her hand, nimbly stepping aside. "Of course we would. Come home."   
  
"There's nothing for me there."  
  
"What about me?" Sif asked, hurt. "And Thor? Your mother? Are we nothing? Your father - you were in his mind, you  _know_  he cares for you. You would leave behind the only people who love you, for what?"  
  
He swallowed hard, expression conflicted. He couldn't answer. Sif thought he had no answer besides self-loathing and a hurt animal's instinct to flee to a safer place.   
  
Thor moved in, sensing a crack in Loki's determination, "All the truths laid bare. If you don't want others to know how Tyr harmed you, then they won't. Now is the time for you to come home and heal, yourself and our family."  
  
Loki didn't answer at first, and his gaze strayed to the dim cold reaches of Jotunheim that lay before them. His eyes held dark shadows of abandonment and pain as he slowly shook his head. "Something tainted will never be pure," he whispered. "What is broken remains broken."  
  
"Not so," Sif protested. "Broken swords can be reforged to fight again. Wounds can heal. And we're with you." She grabbed his hand in hers, to find his fingers cold as ice, and she pulled both of his hands between both of hers to warm them. She raised their joined hands to her lips and against her cheek. He let her, unresisting, but with a distant eyes as though he'd already left her and was watching from afar.  
  
"Come home," she repeated.  
  
"Mother's waiting," Thor said, and Loki blinked, looking a little more present. Thor seized on the little vulnerability. "She said you made her a promise."   
  
Loki swallowed hard, expression falling into conflicted feelings at the reminder, reluctance to do whatever it was she had asked of him. But finally he pulled his hands free of Sif's, and declared, "Fine. I'll go back. To see her. And if Odin puts me back in that cage, I don't even care anymore."  
  
He folded his arms and turned away.  
  
"He promised you freedom, Loki," Sif reminded him. "You turned Malekith aside." In profile, Loki seemed resistant, jaw tightening, but he didn't argue.  
  
"And justice," Thor said. "Tyr will receive his sentence with you present. Mother made sure of that." This time, when he tried to put a hand on Loki's shoulder, Loki didn't shrug him off, or resist, when Thor brought him close to embrace him tightly around the back. "All will be well," Thor promised, in a rough, quiet voice into his hair. "I have missed you, Brother."  
  
"Because you're an idiot," Loki retorted, but the words were without venom, and though he didn't wrap his arms around Thor in return, he stayed there, allowing the embrace. Sif smiled to see them close again.  
  
Thor lifted his free hand up to cup the nape of Loki's neck, fingers in his hair. "Nothing will ever make you not my brother," Thor murmured in promise. "That is for always."   
  
"Even when I hate you?"   
  
Thor chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Especially then."   
  
Loki shoved him away, to straighten his posture and smooth his hair. "You are the biggest pile of ridiculous sentimentality." He stalked away a few paces to inhale a deep breath.  
  
But Thor and Sif exchanged smiles behind his back, because the dark mood had abated, and he seemed himself again. Sif went to him and took his hand in hers, and was surprised, but pleased, when he gripped hers back. "If we're going, let's get this over with," Loki declared. "I hate this place."  
  
Thor wasted no time, risking no change of mind, as he tilted his head back and shouted. "Heimdall! Open the Bifrost."   
  
Loki's fingers tightened on hers painfully, as they waited the few seconds for the Bifrost. She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb, trying to reassure him, as the rainbow bridge formed and snatched them away home.


	13. ASGARD - The Return Home

Heimdall was there to meet them, his golden eyes sharp beneath his helm as his gaze traveled to each of them in turn. "My prince," he nodded to Thor. And then, he nodded to Loki as well, in a gesture of respect that Sif was glad to see. She hadn't realized she had feared its lack, until he did it. He nodded last to Sif.   
  
"Good to be home," Sif murmured. The new Observatory wasn't quite the same as the old one, but familiar. Loki was no longer holding her hand, keeping both of his loose at his sides as if he feared he might have to fight.  
  
"For some of us," Loki muttered.   
  
"I have sent word to the king," Heimdall said. "He will receive you in the small council chamber."   
  
"I can shift us," Loki offered. "It would be quicker."   
  
"You can't shift into the palace," Thor said, then frowned. "Can you?"   
  
Loki rolled his eyes. "Of course I can. How do you think Sif and I left?"  
  
Thor's eyes flicked to Heimdall, as if he'd thought they'd used the Bifrost, then he lifted his brows. "All the way to Svartalfheim?"  
  
"I knew the path." Loki shrugged, passing it off as little effort, but she saw Heimdall's eyes widen and knew it was an impressive feat.   
  
She touched Loki's hand. "Then, yes, take us back. It is a long walk, until transport arrives." If they walked, they would be seen on their way, and she knew he wanted to avoid that. She moved close to him and put her hands around his waist. "Like this, wasn't it? I have to hold tight?"  
  
He was tense, but tilted his head to smile at her. "Just so. Thor, hold out your arm."   
  
Thor did so, and Loki clasped his forearm. "Tightly." Thor gripped Loki's forearm in turn, and nodded his readiness.  
  
"I notice he doesn't have to embrace you," Sif teased, but stood as close as she could, holding Loki tight, with her face against his neck.   
  
That strange tugging session formed deep within, and then pulled her out of that place and shoved her into a new one. She blinked the lights into their proper places, and found herself in the corridor outside the small council chamber.   
  
The two Einherjar on guard on the doors startled violently, to see three people appear out of nowhere right before them.   
  
Loki grinned, pleased with the result. "If you would inform the Allfather that we are here, as summoned."   
  
The guards saluted and pulled open the doors to allow them entrance.  
  
"That was… astonishing, Loki. But why did you not do that to escape Jotunheim?" Thor demanded, as they started down the short aisle that led to the throne set before the panoramic view of the city. Odin wasn't sitting though, standing in the midst of a display with Freyr.  
  
"I wanted to finish Malekith."   
  
"No, I meant before. When the six of us were overrun."  
  
Loki lifted his brows at him. "And reveal I didn't need the Bifrost?"  
  
"We could have died!"   
  
Loki shrugged. "That was why I sent a message before we left. And six was too many to carry without making a gate, and there was no time for that. Because, remember, you insisted we fight a battle."  
  
"A battle you caused," Thor returned.   
  
"I told you we should leave. You didn't listen."  
  
Sif rolled her eyes, and was glad when the king turned from the monitors so Thor and Loki had to stop bickering as if nothing had happened in the past two years.  
  
Odin dismissed Freyr and dispersed the war readiness display, as Frigga's voice sailed through the room from the end of the hall. "Loki!" She rushed forward, free to act as she willed with only family and Sif there to see, and she embraced Loki tightly.  
  
"Oh my son," she whispered. "I am so, so sorry."   
  
He hesitated, as he considered what to respond, but instead of pushing her away, he lifted his arms to return the embrace. The gesture began tentatively, as if he wasn't sure she was real or would welcome his touch, but when his fingers touched her, he embraced her and he let his head rest on her shoulder. "Mother. Please, it's not your fault."   
  
She shook her head, not absolved. She smoothed his hair at the back of his head. "Later, you and I will talk in private," she promised. "And I will be there, and I will listen to everything, Loki. But for now, know I - we- all of us-- we're here, and you belong in this family." She tipped up his chin to look him in the eyes. "We love you. And you can sense the truth in that, I hope."   
  
He blinked rapidly but he nodded, biting his lower lip. Frigga smiled at him and kissed his forehead. "Good. Because it's true."   
  
"So I keep telling him," Thor said.  
  
"I stopped listening to you a long time ago," Loki retorted, but it was reflexive, and his expression was carefully neutral as he turned to Odin. "Malekith is dead," he reported. "Many of his warriors are, too. His ship is trapped in Jotunheim."  
  
Odin nodded once. "You did well. You fulfilled your promise, and so shall I. Tyr awaits judgment and sentencing. It remains to find what your wishes are for justice."   
  
"I -- I -- " He abruptly walked away to the open terrace. He stared out at the city skyline, and Sif hurt for him, as he couldn't answer.   
  
"What is justice?" he asked finally, in a soft voice. "The Svartalfar are going to die, all of them. Where is  _their_  justice? Or Midgard? Perhaps Tyr was their justice against me." He folded his arms and added, "So many nights, I would lie awake in my bed, and I would devise plans to kill him. I learned ways to kill in secret, that no one would ever know. I imagined my knife at his throat so many times… I wanted to hear him beg for mercy. Just once I wanted to hear his voice full of terror of what I would do to him."   
  
Thor shifted his stance to go to him, but Frigga lifted a hand to keep him still and let Loki speak.   
  
"But I never did it. So perhaps I wasted my justice on my silence and lack of will. Or maybe it's all a fantasy, and 'justice' is only vengeance dressed up in fair clothes. It doesn't erase the suffering, or bring the dead back to life. It makes no difference in the end."   
  
Sif listened to this, and she was about to speak, when he turned back around and told Odin sharply, "This is for you, not for me. This is so you feel better that you ignored everything that suggested your precious Aesir aren't perfect." He clenched his fists at his sides and his eyes shone with a desperate light. "I destroy everything I touch, not because I was born a monster, but because the Asgard legacy is five thousand years of death and hatred." He inhaled a ragged breath, trying to get the words out. "This place is rotten at the core. And I still want to watch it burn. That's your  _justice_."  
  
"Loki!" Frigga exclaimed, stricken.   
  
But Loki was already halfway to the door, and he didn't stop until he was gone. The door slammed behind him.  
  
Odin's shoulders slumped and he looked down, letting a soft sigh escape. "Still so angry. And yet uncertain what to do about Tyr, if anything."  
  
Frigga shook her head once. "It has been so long delayed that he cannot picture what justice would look like. But nonetheless Tyr did a terrible wrong and he must face his punishment, now that we know."   
  
The king, queen and Thor looked troubled by what to do with Tyr, but Sif was more concerned about the one who had stormed out of there. "My king, if I may be dismissed?" Sif requested.   
  
He waved a hand for her to go, and she saluted and made her escape to find where Loki had gone.  
  


* * *

  
  
His quarters seemed untouched after his absence, and yet also slightly different as though the cleaners had set everything a tiny bit askew from how he remembered them.   
  
 _Or maybe you are slightly askew from who you were_.   
  
"As if I was ever anything else," Loki muttered and hefted the small crystal statue from his desk before hurling it into the wall. Watching it shatter didn't help the pressure in his chest.  
  
His room should feel like home but he felt he was back in a cell, and the walls were slowly shrinking. Even on the balcony, he couldn't draw a full breath. His muscles were tight, and within, his blood felt thick in his veins as if it might choke him.  
  
 _This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come back here. What was I thinking to come here again? I don't belong here, I never did. But I have nowhere to go. I ruined everything else, didn't I_?  
  
A soft step in the room behind him was his warning a moment before Sif's voice came, soft and gentle, in offering, "Is there anything I can do?"   
  
His fingers tightened on the railing as one part of him wanted to turn on her, and say biting, horrible things to send her away, and the other part wanted to turn toward her and bury his face in her hair. So he did neither, staying where he was.  
  
She joined him at the railing and deliberately set her graceful hand atop his and curled her fingers. "It's okay to be upset," she murmured. "But don't call Tyr's harm to you,  _justice_. That wasn't justice, Loki. That wasn't vengeance. It was abuse and cruelty."   
  
"But--"  
  
Her grip tightened. "Hush. I know you keep conflating all these things in your mind, but no child could ever deserve what Tyr did."  
  
He heard her words, but it was as if he didn't quite understand them. She was speaking on the other side of a glass wall and the words weren't for him.   
  
He shook his head. "I just want to forget," he whispered and had to look away from her, not wanting to see the scorn for his weakness, but he had to confess it anyway. "It traps me in a little box and I can't remember how to breathe."   
  
She considered and asked, "Do you want me to help you to forget? For a little while?"  
  
He nodded, even though he had no idea how she could do that. Even when he wasn't consciously remembering, the memories remained, stirred up like a foul miasma tainting everything.   
  
It was a surprise when she reached up and pulled his mouth to hers. He froze, thinking wildly she couldn't want to do this, not after all that she knew.  
  
"Is this okay?" she asked, one of her hands gentle on his cheek as her beautiful eyes sought his. He realized she was asking permission to keep going.   
  
"More than okay," he agreed and he made himself grin at her. "This is the best way to forget everything else."   
  
She didn't smile back. "Loki, you don't have to pretend," she murmured, her fingers a caress along the side of his face. "You deserve to be truthful about your feelings, as much as the rest of us. Don't fake things you don't feel, it's all right. You avoided this in the ice cave, and if you're not ready, I understand. I want to help you."  
  
Caught by her understanding, his grin faded to a smile that was probably a little pathetic and crooked. "I always want you," he said. "And it's true, that you helped me forget." He let his fingers float down the soft skin of her arm, so lightly it made her shiver in reaction. "Everything you are helps me. It always did."   
  
When they kissed this time, he was ready, and sought to draw her into him, replace all the coldness that had crept into him, with her warmth.   
  
She tugged him off the balcony back into his sleeping chamber. "Let me remove it," she said, putting a hand on his chest and tapping her fingers on the chestplate. "Don't shift it away."   
  
He nodded agreement, and she undressed him, removing his armor to his underclothes, and then he watched as she divested herself of the same, pulling off her leggings so slowly his fingers twitched in need to do it himself, seeing her bare legs appear so enticingly. Then she opened the neck of her tunic to let it slither to the floor around her feet to leave her clad only in her long hair. She smiled, to see his gaze slide down her body and slowly climb back up and when she had his attention again, she crooked a finger to bring him to the bed.   
  
Mouth on hers again, his hands full of her glorious breasts, he had to move his lips to taste her skin where he was touching, and then, remembering his promise, he moved all the way down, to bury his face between her legs, to pleasure her in a way that was only Sif. Her taste, her feel and her scent surrounded him, and tonguing her to slow climax reminded him of nothing, except the last time he'd done this.  
  
When she'd shuddered down from it, she pulled him back up her body to kiss him again, to lick every bit of her own taste from his lips, and rolled them over so she could slide her tongue down those invisible Jotunn markings and make him whine and moan, and the heat slide through him.  
  
His eyes drank in the sight of her, poised above him, as she pushed down on his rigid cock. But he couldn't just be a passive recipient and sat up to kiss her, her legs wrapped around his back. And there was no leverage, no movement for a moment, just the feel of her wrapped around him everywhere.   
  
"Loki," she complained.   
  
"Sif," he repeated, mocking her tone, pulling on her lip with his, pushing his hips up as much as he could to press against her until she gasped and her eyes flew open again.   
  
She pushed him back down and he was grinning smugly, as she rode him until the smugness flew away and he just prayed she would never stop. Release seized him, pleasure crashing through him, and leaving him panting and boneless beneath her.   
  
But he kept his eyes open to watch her finish herself again, enjoying the way her whole body tightened and she bit her lip, while she ground her hips down on him. Then, she shook back her sweat-damp hair and settled her body on his as they both breathed.  
  
"Mmm, glad to see my Loki Silvertongue return," she purred.  
  
"My pleasure." He held out a hand to conjure a cloth from the bathing room, needing to try three times before it came to his hand.   
  
Sif snickered and snatched the cloth from his hand. "Did I wear you out so quickly?"  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, did you dig a tunnel through a glacier today?"  
  
"I watched someone dig a tunnel through a glacier," she returned, smiling. "It looked pretty easy. All he did, was this." She sat up again, kneeling across his stomach, and held up her hands and furrowed her brow very intensely, pouting her lips excessively.   
  
Ordinarily he'd be annoyed that she was mocking his powers, but her imitation made him chuckle. "Is that really what I look like?" he asked.   
  
She laughed and stretched out on top of him again. "Mm, no, not really. Watching you move all that ice aside for you was quite… attractive."   
  
"Oh?" His hands slid from her shoulders down her back, caressing her soft skin with appreciation. He concentrated on the movement of his fingers and the feel of her body still pressed against him. "I'll have to do it more often then."  
  
"No more ice for awhile. I want to stay here where it's warm." With one hand, she pulled up the blankets as she slid off to one side, keeping her head on his arm and curling into his body with a yawn. "I'm glad we're home."   
  
"I'm glad I'm with you," he answered.  
  
She lifted her head. "You're home, too."   
  
"Of course," he agreed, "that's not what I meant."   
  
Relieved, she put her head back down and closed her eyes. In moments, she had fallen asleep, with that warrior's ability to catch some rest whenever she wanted. Loki had never slept well or easily, his thoughts too much like jumping mice, and nightmares a frequent interruption when he finally did settle to sleep.  
  
His words had been exactly what he'd meant. Here with Sif, he felt more at home, but there remained a chasm inside him, and he felt he couldn't reach across it. Not yet, maybe not ever, maybe he was simply doomed to not feeling he belonged.  
  
 _Because you're a creature. A monster. You think they really want you? You believe them? They feel guilty right now, but you know what you are. You know they don't care - it's all pretend, it's all a lie. Do as I tell you, or I'll get the king to throw you out. You can live in the stables, like the beast you are_.  
  
Loki's eyes shot open as the remembered voice struck like a lash, and he turned his head, heart rate lurching faster at the thought that Tyr had gotten into the room.   
  
There was, of course, no one there. He swallowed hard, and turned his face into Sif's hair, as he carefully laid his hand on her arm to hold her without waking her, and remind himself where he was.   
  
Frigga must have ordered his chambers off-limits because no one tried to enter, not even Thor, though Loki half-wished he would knock. The night passed slowly, and he slept in brief snatches that felt worse than none at all.


	14. ASGARD - The Sentence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long one for this weekend! enjoy. :)

* * *

 

Sif awoke with the early sun flooding the room. She stretched leisurely, finding she was still naked though his sheet had been pulled up over her. The bed was also empty.   
  
She sat up to find Loki wasn't in the room, and after tucking the sheet around her she went to find him on the balcony. He was fully dressed, though in softer tunic and breeches, not his armor, and her lips pouted that he seemed to have no interest in coming back to bed.  
  
"Good morning," she murmured and was pleased he raised an arm to let her get close. But she got a look at his face and the shadows smudged under his eyes, and the deeper lines at his eyes and mouth, visible in the bright early morning light. "You should have woken me," she chided softly. "I could have read to you, or we could have gone for a walk, if you weren't resting."   
  
"I didn't want to disturb you."   
  
"I want to be disturbed," she insisted and hugged her arm around his waist more tightly. "Remember, we're in this together."   
  
He swallowed hard. "No, this is my--"  
  
She put a hand across his lips. "What did I promise you? What did I say we would find, together?"  
  
He shook his head and didn't answer.  
  
"Salvation, Loki. Peace. It's there. You can't give up looking for it."   
  
He looked down, and his jaw tightened, no doubt to prevent himself from saying that there was no such thing. Then he shook his head and tried a smile. "You say that so sincerely I can't help but hope you're right."   
  
But before she could speak, the outer door chimed and they heard the Queen's voice, amplified in the chamber, "Loki? Are you awake? I need to speak to you."   
  
Loki called, "Enter!" He let go of Sif, heading back inside to greet his mother in the sitting room. Sif considered not joining them, staying on the balcony where she would go unseen, but realized that was hiding again. She and Loki didn't have to explain themselves to anyone. She should change her clothes, since it was not exactly proper to greet the queen wearing only a bedsheet, but if Frigga would come at an early hour, she could really expect no better.  
  
Feeling defiant, Sif adjusted the sheet and entered the sitting room as main door closed behind the queen. Frigga took note of what she was wearing, and her lips turned up in amusement, but no disapproval and no surprise at finding Sif in Loki's chambers. "Good morning, both of you." But the amusement fell away for more serious expression. "The king has announced Tyr's sentence will be in the Great Hall at noon. Thor will bring him from the dungeon himself. Tyr will not be permitted to speak before the court, and no one will identify you in the reading of the crime. You may attend, if you wish. Or watch it via scrying, if you prefer."  
  
Loki took all that in, without his expression shifting a hair, then he blinked. "What is the sentence to be?"  
  
"He will be exiled from court and lose his lands for certain. What more, Odin didn't tell me. Long ago, the punishment was castration for similar crimes, but I do not know if your father will choose that."  
  
Sif raised her brows at that news, but decided it was possibly more just than anything else she had considered.   
  
Loki nodded as if he didn't care. But then he observed flatly, "None of those will keep him silent. Even if you cut out his tongue, he will reveal your secrets."   
  
"His silence buys his life," she answered. "I will put geas on him myself, to ensure it."  
  
Loki nodded again and told her with flat politeness, "Thank you." He walked away to face the wall hanging, an illustration of the movement of the Realms on Yggdrasil, and folded his arms.  
  
"Anything, my son," she said quietly and she took a step nearer him as if she might embrace him, but the rigid line of his back did not invite consoling hugs. "I will send up some food for you both."   
  
She took her leave, flicking her eyes from Sif to Loki to urge her to go to him. Sif did as she suggested, hoping she could get Loki back into bed and focused on her again, but he took hold of her wrists gently to bring her hands away from him. "I can't. Not right now. I don't want to taint our time together with  _this_."  
  
She nodded understanding. "All right. Do you want me to leave?"  
  
He looked startled as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind. "No, unless you want to. I just… not that."   
  
She took his hand and dropped a kiss in his palm. "After today, it'll be over, Loki. Think of that. After all these years, it will finally be over."   
  
"I hope so," he murmured. But his gaze was distant and he was not gladdened by the prospect at all, as if he didn't think it would ever be over.   
  
Yet that moment crept nearer, despite what he seemed to believe. She dressed and tried to get him to eat a little from the tray that Frigga sent to them. He was too tense to eat, anxiety shredding his nerves; something she didn't understand the depths of, until she came up behind him, intending to rub his shoulders. He flung her off, anxieties welling up and bursting out of him in a flare of uncontrolled temper. "Don't touch me!"   
  
She raised both hands. "I'm sorry. I should have asked first."   
  
He swallowed, shaking his head and settling again. "No, I reacted poorly. It's not your fault."   
  
He let her hold his hand for about two minutes until he got up to pace the balcony. She stayed out of his way, wishing she could do more, until finally a messenger came to announce it was time. She asked, "Are you coming?"  
  
Loki shook his head. "No."   
  
She wasn't surprised, since he would have changed to his court armor if he'd intended to go to the Great Hall. "Do you want me to stay with you?"   
  
"No. You go, watch. Bear witness for me," he asked.   
  
"I will. And when it's done, I'll come right back to you," she promised and though she wanted to kiss him, decided it was best if she not touch him just then and slipped out the door.   
  


* * *

  
  
The Great Hall could hold thousands, but now it held a scant two hundred people, mostly those who knew Tyr and seemed shocked that he had done anything wrong at all.   
  
Sif took her place near the front, next to Fandral, who greeted her with a charming smile and a bow to her. "Lady Sif."   
  
"Fandral. It is good to see you again."   
  
"Not under these circumstances, I fear." He looked at her, eyes more somber than she had seen in some time. "You were traveling, Thor said? Did he fill you in on what this is about?"   
  
"He didn't need to. I was there when the truth poured like rain," she answered grimly. "And if this sentence does not inflict half of the fear upon Tyr that I have seen recalled and relived these past few days, I will say it is unjust."   
  
"Oh?" He frowned curiously and, glancing at their neighbors, he asked with careful vagueness, "You were there when the king learned the truth? Why did you go below in the first place?"  
  
She turned her eyes to him surprised that he still didn't know. Of all their friends he would have been the one who would've guessed. "I wanted to know if there was any hope for him."   
  
Fandral still looked intensely curious, as if he'd figured out there was a secret he didn't know, but then the horns blared to announce the king, and they all faced the throne.   
  
Odin wasted no time getting to the distasteful role he had to perform. "Bring in the prisoner," he commanded.   
  
Thor brought in Tyr, down the long aisle. Tyr's good hand was chained to a collar, and he was gagged to keep him silent.  
  
Odin stared at him in weighty silence at first, before lifting his head to address the crowd. "For many years, as is known, Tyr has been a mighty warrior in our service, helping protect Asgard from its enemies. He has made himself my own companion, to myself and the queen. He had been a part of our trusted councils, admired for his wisdom as much as his skills.   
  
"But now I have discovered that this has always been a terrible lie," Odin declared sternly. "The trust he was given, he repaid with betrayal. The wisdom he seemed to offer was false. Because Tyr has committed great wrong within these very walls. He has offended my house with vile acts of treason, and tainted this very Realm.   
  
"He has put his hand upon Gungnir and I know his guilt to be a fact. Tyr, you are guilty of the crime of the repeated rape and other cruel and harmful acts committed on a youth." An audible gasp arose from the audience, as they learned what he'd done. Those nearest him stepped away, while the guards lining the aisle tensed. Standing behind Tyr, Thor clenched his jaw tightly and looked as if he was about to rip Tyr's head off with his bare hands.  
  
Sif put a hand to her stomach, feeling sick at the words. Somehow it was different this way, more stark and horrifying, to hear the king confirm the truth from his knowledge of Tyr's mind.  
  
Odin paused and looked very old before he pulled himself together to speak again. "Crimes such as these have not happened in a thousand years. I had thought such evil had been eradicated from Asgard, but it has taken root in this serpent, nestled so close to me that I did not see it. This traitor has spread his poison, sowing darkness where there once was light, from the highest towers to the lowest dungeon, betraying everything Asgard should be."  
  
A breeze suddenly stirred Sif's hair and Sif saw Frigga look to the side of the throne, toward the family's entrance. Sif craned to see that Loki now stood at the edge of the dais, nearly hidden entirely by one of the pillars. He was wearing his court armor, combat leathers beneath the formal coat and emerald cape. He was also wearing his helm, which left his eyes shadowed, but she thought he was looking at Tyr.   
  
Odin's eye looked to Loki and then back to Tyr. "For these terrible acts of unbearable depravity, it hardly seems any punishment is just. Yet I have decided." He tapped Gungnir on the floor and the Hall rang like a great bell, the vibrations rattling them all.  
  
The sound stopped abruptly and Odin's head lifted in a signal that he hadn't done it himself.   
  
In the silence, a dagger came out of nowhere and slammed point-first into the stone at Tyr's feet, embedding itself halfway to the hilt. Sif grabbed for her own dagger, fearing attack, before she realized the even worse truth.   
  
Loki stalked out into full view. He was glaring at Tyr, his eyes too bright and his lip curled in pure hatred. It was as if no one else was in the hall. "I challenge you."  
  
"No, Loki!" Frigga gasped in dismay.   
  
He ignored her and all the whispers that arose in the audience in the wake of his challenge. If he'd wanted to keep the truth a secret, it was in the open now. He didn't seem to realize though, addressing Tyr in a level, almost reasonable tone, "You get no champion. I use no magic. We fight to the death."  
  
"No!" Sif blurted, and she was also ignored. Had he intended this move all along, or was this a snap decision, spurred by his fear that Odin's justice would be anything but just?  
  
There was no answer to be found in his face as Loki walked down the steps of the dais, still looking Tyr in the eye. "Accept my challenge or face whatever the Allfather has ready for you. But we both know you will accept, won't you?"  
  
Tyr's gaze flickered between Loki and the king and queen, seeing Frigga shaking her head in desperate denial. But if he had ever felt merciful toward her, he didn't now, and he nodded his acceptance of Loki's terms.   
  
On the throne, Odin shut his eye and clenched his jaw, unwilling to pronounce the duel, and then he gave in, as custom demanded, and pronounced heavily, "Then it is done. Loki will --" he paused and added with deliberate care, re-claiming Loki as his own, "Loki Odinson will fight Tyr at dawn to the death in the arena. Tyr may choose his second, as custom and law demand, but he remains in confinement until he should win his combat. Tyr may have no champion fight in his stead, and Loki may not use seiðr, as the combatants agreed. Let justice be served."  
  
Loki bowed his head to the king and walked with measured stride along the aisle to the far doors, meeting no one's eyes. He left behind his dagger, still embedded in the floor, even after Odin ordered the Einherjar to remove Tyr in such a thunderous temper no one dared speak.   
  
Sif slipped out of the hall, running as soon as she cleared the doors, and reached Loki's chambers ahead of anyone else. She slammed his door behind her, the words flying from her in the depth of her rage. "How could you do something so incredibly  _stupid_?"   
  
Loki had shifted to his usual combat gear and was standing at his desk examining daggers. He shot her a flat look. "You think I am so likely to lose?"   
  
That effectively quenched her temper. "No, no, of course not," she hastened to reassure him. "You are a fine fighter. But this is still a foolish risk. To the death?! What were you thinking?"  
  
The edge of the dagger he held suddenly blazed white-hot, as if it were being forged again. He stared into the brightness, and answered, "I was thinking-- I will not let him leave this place alive."  
  
She could sense the seiðr, gathered in thick ropes in the room, though she could see nothing of what he was doing. But she could see the result, as he honed the dagger's edge at the base level. She had never seen him do this before -- had not known he  _could_  do this -- and she watched in some amazement. Finished, he hurled the dagger past her to splash into the ornamental fountain by the wall, where it sent up a hissing cloud of steam.  
  
He picked up another dagger.  
  
"Daggers are useful, but you should take a spear or halberd," she suggested, knowing better than suggest a sword. "You need more reach. You know he'll have his sword and shield hand."   
  
"I will kill him with my own weapons."  
  
"Then why did you say no magic?" she demanded. "That's your best weapon."  
  
"If I wanted to kill him with magic, I could do it from here."  
  
She took an urgent step closer. "Then do it! Avenge what he did, and kill him. No one will demand a blood price, and the Allfather wants him dead, too."   
  
"And be a coward?" he demanded, turning on her in a fury. "Loki can kill without honor because he hasn't got any left to worry about?" He practically spat the words at her before whirling away again. "If you think I'm that spineless and dishonorable why are you here?"   
  
"I don't think that! Loki, that's not what I--" she started and then her voice stopped because those had been her words. Urging him to kill from afar with sorcery, just because he could, would be both dishonorable and a coward's move. She had to start over in a softer voice. "I meant that  _he_  has no honor. He deserves no protection from the warrior code or traditional combat. I want him dead and you safe."  
  
He looked into his reflection in one of his dagger blades. "It is no secret I think honor is a bad jest, a game the strong rig to win and I usually refuse to play. But sometimes not playing is the same as losing, and this time, I have to win, Sif. I have to kill him clean."  
  
Thor's voice interrupted from the outer room. "And if he doesn't do the same? He is an honorless dog, Loki."   
  
Loki looked his way and his smile was unexpected and amused. "Yet you would say the same about me, I think."  
  
Thor's steps were quick to Loki and he seized Loki's shoulder. "No. Not at all. He is… what others accuse you of, brother, but you are not. He revealed himself when I arrested him, sly and full of malice. And I fear his greatest weapon in the arena will not be his sword, but words."  
  
That made Loki laugh. "Oh, well, then what do I even need with these?" He tossed a dagger to the table's surface. "In a battle of word and wit, I assure you, I have few peers and he is not one."  
  
Sif wanted to smack him. He wasn't taking this seriously. "Loki!"   
  
But Loki wasn't looking at her, as his eyes were drawn to the entrance, and Sif turned to see the queen had entered. Frigga's face was set and drawn, and she saw only Loki, barely glancing away. "Thor, Sif, if you would excuse us."   
  
The polite dismissal did not allow for objection, and Sif nodded. "Of course, my queen. Loki, send for me and I will return, when you wish."   
  
Thor was more reluctant but he knew better than to argue with his mother, escorting Sif out of Loki's chambers.  
  
They got to the corner and Thor let out a cry and slammed a fist into the wall, rattling the statue in the niche nearby. She grimaced, sharing his anger and frustration, and held out a hand to keep the statue from toppling.   
  
Needing distraction from what Loki had decided to do so impetuously, Sif looked at the statue which had been a dull ornament in this same niche as long as she could remember. It was of a smaller warrior defeating a much larger one. And on closer look she knew what it was meant to be: an Aesir about to slay a Frost Giant.  
  
Her own rage welled up and she slammed her boot into it, breaking the statue off its pedestal and it fell to the floor, breaking into three more pieces. Thor turned to her, shocked. She pointed to the fallen pieces, "Does he need a statue of  _that_ , not twenty paces from his door?"  
  
Thor peered down and his eyes widened. "That's always been there. I'm not sure I have ever looked at it."  
  
Probably no one had. It was something  _there_ , one of the many vague reminders of Aesir history and magnificence. But Sif was sure that Loki, as curious as he had always been, knew exactly who and what all the art throughout the palace depicted.   
  
Thor knew that, too. He knelt, picked up the piece of the fallen Jotunn and held it in his hand. "This is why he believes nothing we say," he whispered in stricken realization. "No one  _saw_. We never saw  _anything._ " He hurled the broken piece down the corridor, watching it smash into the far column.   
  
"We have to see him now, Thor, or I fear we will lose him."  
  
"If that dog hurts him…" Thor growled and his right hand's fingers curled, seeking Mjolnir's handle.  
  
"Then we kill him," she finished. "But… we need to give Loki this chance to do it himself first." She lowered her voice and stepped nearer to him. "We have to let him fight his own battle and prove his own strength to himself. If we take it from him, it shows him that we think him weak. His enemy is not Tyr, not truly; it is that dark shadow on his heart that seeks to drag him from us."  
  
Thor didn't answer right away. Then he glanced down at his empty fist and opened his fingers, realizing that weapons and all his great strength couldn't help this. That it had been, in fact, part of the problem because Loki had never wanted to admit that he'd been so horribly victimized and felt so weak, when his brother grew stronger.   
  
She jerked her head toward the reception room. "Shall we drink?"  
  
He accepted, though not without a worried frown toward Loki's closed door.   
  


* * *

  
  
  
On the other side of the door, Frigga watched Loki pace back and forth four times before she brought it to a halt. "Sit."   
  
He stopped pacing, but didn't sit. "Mother--"  
  
She seated herself on the chair opposite the one she nodded to. "Loki. Sit."   
  
He perched anxiously on the edge, as if he was still a youth or he thought she intended to discipline him. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and reached out. He let her grip both of his hands between hers. "Your father is in quite a terror of anxiety and regret, Loki, that you would not let him prove his judgment. We wanted so much to spare you a duel, my darling."   
  
He pulled his hands free and rose back to his feet. "You try to spare me too much, and yet all the wrong things," he said, moving back to his table and picking up the dagger there, mostly to avoid looking at her. "Sparing me the truth of my origins, but not sparing me the knowledge and stories that the Frost Giants are beasts, fit only to sharpen our blades upon."  
  
"That is not true!" she protested. "They are people, Loki. But they have been our enemies for a very long time, that could not change quickly." But that was not the real problem and she knew it. He wasn't talking about general prejudice against the Jotunn, but about one person's hate in particular.   
  
"When Tyr touched Gungnir, we found out something else you should know." She hung her head, looking down at her hands, now bereft of his. She opened her mouth to tell him the full truth about Laufey, but decided that needed to wait until after he had won this duel. "He saw you on Jotunheim in the final days of the war. He thought you were the same baby, shifted to an Aesir form and taken as a hostage, but he was never sure." She swallowed hard to take a breath. "At first, he was trying to force you to shift, to prove what you were."   
  
"One would think that hating what I am as much as everyone else would make that easier to hear, but… it doesn't."   
  
"Oh, Loki, no," she jumped back to her feet to go to him. "I told you when you were a boy, and I meant it then, as I mean it now: there is nothing wrong with you. Can you not believe me at least as much as you believe Tyr's lies?"   
  
"How can I? When you've never even seen what I  _look like_?" he demanded in a snarling fury, hurling a dagger to impale the painting of a bird in flight hanging on the western wall.   
  
"I did, my darling. Long ago, when you were a baby, Odin showed me how you'd looked when he'd found you. And do you know what I saw? A baby." She raised a hand and cast the illusion between them, the light twining into the image of a small shape, so dearly familiar to her. She smiled to see it again. "Yes, he was blue and his eyes were scarlet, and he was small, but he was a  _baby_. This baby. You."   
  
Loki was rapt by the sight of himself as a baby, staring with parted lips.   
  
"My baby," she added more softly. "He - you - were so beautiful, Loki. Charming and sweet, I never once considered letting you go once I had you in my arms." She stared at the image of that precious baby that she'd failed so badly, and her eyes pricked with wet heat thinking how she would do it differently now. "We meant well," she offered softly. "It is a poor excuse, but it's true. We made mistakes but they were made in love. But you are right; we protected you from the wrong things and never saw the true threat to you. I am… so sorry, Loki. I know you will never forgive me, but I--"  
  
His head snapped up, interrupting her with its sudden movement, and he said, "I forgive you."  
  
"No, Loki." She banished the image. "No, you can't. Not after--"  
  
"I can if I want to, and I want to," he insisted stubbornly. "You saved me. Odin carried me from Jotunheim, but you  _saved_  me. You save me still."  
  
"That is not--"  
  
He interrupted again. "Mother. Please. I absolve you. I forgive you."   
  
She shook her head, eyes filling. "But I do not deserve it, Loki, not from you, when I failed you so badly…"  
  
He didn't reply immediately, dropping his eyes to the floor, and then swallowing hard. "Then how will I ever deserve it?" he asked finally in a whisper. "If your… good intentioned love is so wrong and deserves no forgiveness, then there is no hope for me."   
  
She realized her mistake. "No, darling, no," she wrapped her arms around him, clutching him to her chest as hard as she could. "Of course there is hope. I should not put my regrets onto you, as another burden. You carry enough, and you need none of my guilt. I am here for you, to love you and to help you."  
  
His hands gripped the back of her mantle tightly, desperately. "I don't…" he whispered in hoarse confession into her hair. "I don't know what to do... I'm so lost..."   
  
"Hush." She smoothed his hair. "It will be well, my son. You will duel Tyr and you will kill him. And then a new day will come, and you will not be alone. Little by little, it will be well." She kissed his forehead and cupped his cheek in her hand to look into his eyes. "Do not listen to him. Whatever cruel things he says they are only words, not truth. You are strong; you are not that child he tormented anymore and he has no power over you."  
  
She wasn't sure that was actually true, but if Loki gave him none, he would have none. Loki swallowed hard, but nodded, looking more resolved.  
  
"He will have his sword and shield hand. You must not let him pin you, but be swift and slippery as a fish, until he gives you an opening. He has not seen you fight in many years; he will underestimate your skills. He will probably talk too much and get distracted by the sound of his own voice gloating - don't listen, but take that opportunity to strike him. And," she hesitated and added with a touch of lightness, "if you should happen to cut his other hand off, I'm sure Fenrir would approve."  
  
The addition stirred a sudden smile from him, and she patted his shoulder. "There, that's better. Do not play with him. I have seen you toy with your enemies, but you mustn't do that with him or he will tire you. Finish him as quickly as you can."   
  
He nodded, gaze focused, and his expression tight with intent as he listened.   
  
"Remember what you have learned in sparring Sif and Fandral," she advised. "They were taught by Tyr. You cannot use your usual illusion tricks, but remember, you may use everything you bring into the arena with you. Including yourself. If you break his neck, he will be just as dead."   
  
Of course, Loki would be as well, but she was trying not to picture that. Or Tyr's sword in Loki's chest.  
  
She reached out with trembling fingers to lay his collar more smoothly. "He will have his integrated shield in place of his hand, but if you can detach it--"  
  
Loki grabbed her hand, with a fond smile. "Mother. Enough. I will kill him, and tomorrow we will laugh that you were so anxious."  
  
Her return smile felt wan, as if once he pointed out she was anxious, it all fell on her. "I believe so, my son, I truly do. But you cannot blame a mother for worrying."  
  
He lifted her hand to his lips, a gesture that pleased her as much as it worried her that he was deliberately being affectionate in case he lost tomorrow. "I do not underestimate him, I promise you," he said.  
  
"Good. Then I want you to eat something, and rest. Shall I call Sif to join you?" she asked.  
  
His gaze flicked toward the outer door and the doorway back toward his sleeping chamber. "Not now. Would you … stay with me?" he asked with a heart-breaking uncertainty, head down, as his fingers picked at his cuff as if it was bothering him.   
  
She set her hand over the fidgeting. "Of course," she agreed, and drew him toward the sofa to sit together. "As long as you like."

* * *

tbc...

 


	15. ASGARD - The Duel

Sif was not surprised that Loki did not call for her overnight, especially once she heard that Frigga had stayed with him instead.  
  
The appointed hour was swift to arrive though. Sif dressed carefully in her armor and the scarlet of her house, brushing her hair and pinning the sides formally. But when she looked at her reflection, there was something missing.   
  
Her fingers touched the bare skin of her chest below her collar bones, and she knew what belonged there. She opened her jewelry chest, searching; it was in here somewhere. Once she'd tucked it under her bodice and then, for a long time she'd not worn it at all, but now she would wear it openly and proudly. She fished it out, stringing the delicate gold chain around her neck to support the pendant of the stylized golden horns of Loki's helm embracing the perfect emerald. She smiled to see it there. There was nothing else she owned that would so boldly proclaim her allegiance.  
  
She set her dagger in its sheath at her back, as the chime at her door announced a visitor. She called enter, hoping it would be Loki. But Thor entered instead, gleaming in his formal armor and carrying Mjolnir. They exchanged half-hearted pleasantries, focused on the duel to come, and his eyes dropped to the pendant and he frowned. "That looks like something Loki would have. Did he give it to you last night?"  
  
"At winterfest, years ago, when I was still golden haired." She hesitated and then thought it was stupid to keep this secret now. There was no point, especially when Thor knew her feelings for Loki already. So she added, "When we were lovers."   
  
"Then?" he blinked in shock then he grinned. "So Volstagg wins the wager after all! He always believed you two were sneaking off together."   
  
"There was a wager on my relationship with Loki?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Thor dangerously.   
  
Thor said quickly, "It was just between us. For fun, Sif. But why did you keep it a secret? From your friends? Did he insist on the secrecy?"  
  
"I did." In hindsight she wished she'd done differently, now knowing the results, but the impulse had been right. She answered, "I thought people would believe that was how I earned my place."   
  
"But no one would believe that, with your prowess," he said, frowning.  
  
She wanted to laugh, and had a moment's sympathy for Loki's impatience with Thor, because Thor had no idea. People had accused her - not to her face, but plenty behind her back - of sleeping with either or both of the brothers anyway. Eventually she had proved them all wrong, but the whispers had taken a long time to fade. "I was angry that he didn't try to understand why I wanted it kept private, and of course, I never understood why such a secret made him so resentful. That's what we fought over until it ended." She clasped the stone between her fingers, thinking of what had followed that ending: he had retaliated by cursing her hair, he'd apologized with the flowers, and she'd scattered the broken stems in front of his door to reject his apology. After that, he'd made his hurt and anger clear by seducing everyone who took his fancy, so she would know he didn't need her. She had thrown this jewel into the bottom of her jewelry casket, thinking she would one day find the perfectly cruel way to give it back to him. Luckily she hadn't, so now it could be a symbol of their return together.   
  
"Oh," Thor said, nodding in greater understanding of what had truly happened. And his blue eyes, usually so guileless and bright, looked at her and read more deeply than she expected. "Yet you loved him."  
  
She nodded, her heart aching at the memory of how she'd pretended she didn't. "We were both young and stupid," she said. "I told myself it was better, because he was becoming a sorcerer, and sorcerers had no honor. Because… Tyr said so." Her fingers went cold and numb. Tyr had been the one who had always suggested that true warriors had no use for magic, despite the fact that both king and queen were themselves skilled practitioners. "Oh, ancestors, he poisoned me against Loki, and I never realized…. All these years, Thor. How could someone be so hateful?"  
  
"It surpasses my understanding," Thor agreed. His expression took on a grimmer cast, as he gave oath. "But today he will die, Sif. Rules and honor be damned. I will give up the throne, I will give up Asgard, before I let that dog hurt my brother again."   
  
She gripped his arm. "I know, and I agree. But we need to let Loki fight him, Thor."  
  
He nodded, reluctantly, but she was glad he agreed at all. "Yes. I know. My mother is helping him arm, and we will meet them at the northern side."  
  
"Then, shall we?" she invited.  
  
They headed for the arena.  
  


* * *

  
  
Loki felt calm as he waited. He wasn't wearing anything special, just his ordinary combat gear, and four daggers on him. Frigga had wanted him to have more but he saw no point of that - the daggers weren't going to disappear from the ground if he dropped them so he could pick them up again, if necessary. And if he couldn't kill Tyr with four, he doubted six would help. But they were all sharp and strong, and they were all his, perfectly balanced to his hand.  
  
He stood in the northern waiting area, able to see the top of Tyr's head and that of whatever fool he'd gotten to be his second on the opposite end of the oval arena. The arena itself was walled all around, except for the two entrances, and the king's box was on the western side, but still empty.   
  
The rest of it was surrounded by spectator benches. In theory they were for the witnesses to the duel, but in the old days, duels had been for entertainment and included pageantry, even if it was deadly serious for the combatants. Spectators filed in slowly, but seemed unsure what to do, or how to react to the idea of a duel to the death between a prince of the Realm and the great warrior who had done disgusting things to that prince as a child.   
  
The reminder turned his stomach and he pushed it away. He shouldn't have revealed it. He should have kept his mouth shut and kept the secret, and burnt Tyr to ash with magic from afar. Honor was a stupid concept, and he was a stupid fool for thinking this duel would prove anything. But he was here and he would do it, and maybe he could finally sleep well once Tyr was dead.  
  
Thor and Sif arrived, resplendent in their armor, and Loki noted the pendant with a sudden warmth in his chest. "You… still have it?" he asked, cursing the little hitch in his voice. He'd been sure she'd thrown it in the river.   
  
She nodded once then made herself smile. "You owe me matching earrings for it."  
  
"Is that my incentive? I can't get killed, because I owe you matching earrings?" he teased.  
  
"No, your  _incentive_  is that I'll give you something you like, very much," she leaned into him and feathered her lips across his. "The sooner you kill him and the less hurt you are, the quicker I'll give it to you."  
  
"Ah, well, I was planning on dying until you came up with that vague promise," he retorted dryly, and she elbowed him in the ribs hard.  
  
"Don't you dare jest about that."   
  
"Do you have a plan, Loki?" Thor asked.   
  
The answer to that was no. There was no plan to be made, other than kill Tyr and not get killed himself. He didn't intend to use seiðr; this would happen properly or it had no meaning at all. "Of course. Step one: kill him."  
  
"That's it?" Thor asked. "Your plans are usually more elaborate than that."   
  
Loki rolled his eyes. "I did consider going to Niflheim and waking Ymir to kill him for me, but that seemed a bit much."   
  
He saw Sif exchange a look with Frigga, both dismayed by his levity, and his mother stepped forward, "I must go to the box, Loki, before we begin. Remember what we spoke of last night."   
  
"Of course." He tapped the hilt of his dagger which was visible at his side. He intended to take her advice.  
  
"Be careful," she told him. "Beware of treachery."   
  
"His second is no doubt telling him exactly the same thing. He is facing  _me_ , after all, and we all know my reputation," Loki said dryly, but repented of his jest when he saw Frigga look pained. He seized Frigga's hand in his. "It will be well, Mother. Please do not worry for me."   
  
"How can I not, sweetheart?" she told him, and kissed his cheek. Then looked into his eyes, and in the voice of the queen, not his mother, she commanded, "Destroy him."   
  
Watching her go, all the light went with her, as the truth hit him that this was going to happen and there was nothing he could do to change it. But cursing his impetuous decision wasn't going to help. Dreading the fight wasn't going to help. He just had to do it.  
  
Thor's hand closed on his shoulder. "He will be slower than Malekith was but stronger. He will keep the shield unless you can detach it from his stump."   
  
"Knife him in the arm or shoulder," Sif advised. "The shield won't matter if he can't wield it."   
  
Thankfully, the great horns blew announcing the king's arrival and ended the tide of advice. Loki's insides tightened up with anxiety and anticipation, and his eyes lifted to the royal box, now lit by the bright rays of the rising sun.   
  
Odin, escorting Frigga, entered as the entire gathering rose to their feet. He handed Frigga to her chair and gestured the audience to be seated, which they did with a rustle of clothing and a few whispers.   
  
Once quiet had fallen again, he gripped Gungnir tightly and announced, "The combatants are bound only by three rules: One, once the doors close, only one may leave alive. Two, no one may interfere. Interference, by giving a combatant aid, will be punished severely. Three, neither may use seiðr."  
  
His head turned to look at Loki, his face stern and unreadable, but he hesitated long enough to make his dislike for this plain, before he raised his other hand. "It begins."   
  
Suddenly aware that this might be his last chance, Loki grabbed Sif's arms to confess urgently, "I have always loved you." He bent his head to press a kiss to her lips, to take that with him, and then spun around, as the door to the arena swung open.   
  
"Loki!" Sif exclaimed behind him, and the shock in her voice made him smile as he walked forward through the opening.   
  
On the far side, Tyr likewise was revealed as his door opened, too. His longer hair was bound back, and he was wearing his gold-chased armor. As expected he carried his sword in one hand and his shield attached to his other arm.   
  
As soon as Loki stood in the bare dirt of the arena floor, the door closed with a resounding boom behind him.  
  
There was now only one path, as he'd always known there would be. Only one ending.   
  
As he moved toward the center, time seemed to melt away. Nothing else existed but that hated face before him. He felt cold, but resolute: he would not be drawn into a long fight, he would not listen to anything Tyr said, and he would not remember the past or drown in his memories.   
  
He drew his dagger and held it in his right hand. He was ready.  
  


* * *

  
  
As soon as the door shut behind Loki, Sif took off for the steps to climb into the viewing area. Thor followed her, his heavier tread striding to join her at the wall.   
  
Loki held one of his daggers, while Tyr held his sword in his hand and had his shield arm with the other. The fight seemed unbalanced already, with Tyr more heavily armed and armored than Loki. Not throwing his dagger, since Tyr could easily deflect it with his shield, Loki started to circle him to look for an opening.   
  
Tyr laughed. "One little knife? Are you here to fight or chop your meat for dinner?"   
  
Sif started, surprised that his voice reached her ears so easily. There must be amplification of the sounds of the fight. She exchanged a glance with Thor, uneasy. It was bad enough to contemplate what terrible things Tyr might say to Loki, but to be able to hear them?   
  
"I'm not here to fight," Loki countered. "I'm here to kill you."   
  
"You sure, creature? You'll end up on your knees like you did before," Tyr taunted.  
  
Temper provoked, Loki rushed in. At first, Tyr could only give ground to escape as Loki got inside his reach, and then he counter-attacked, sword swinging in sharp precise arcs, with his shield now catching Loki's dagger and forcing him back.   
  
Sif clenched her hands to tight fists, reminding herself that she couldn't help. Loki disengaged and pulled a second dagger from beneath his coat for his other hand, and wasted no words this time as he resumed his attack.   
  
For a moment, Sif forgot that he was fighting for his life, and watched in appreciation of the artistry. They fought in different styles, but both with an urgent grace. This fight was beautiful and savage in its glory, especially when Loki's reverse strike grazed ribs and Tyr was thrown in a rage by Loki taking first blood.  
  
They parted again, Tyr taunting, "You fight like a woman."  
  
But Loki returned his gaze and smiled slightly. "Thank you."   
  
"You think that a compliment?" Tyr feinted left, with a quick jab, but Loki wasn't fooled, slipping underneath the strike and dancing back.  
  
"Have you seen Lady Sif fight? Or my mother?" Loki returned.   
  
"The monstrous  _thing_  that spawned you, could fight? I doubt that, when it was so easy to split them open. We should have exterminated them all."  
  
Loki froze, daggers stilled. "I am not you," Loki spat at him, infuriated. "I will not  _be_  you." He hurled one of his daggers at Tyr's eye, and when Tyr ducked to avoid it, Loki's next blade was darting for his throat. Their blades clashed with ringing metal.   
  
Loki was slippery and fast, his style something completely different from what Sif practiced. He kept in motion, hard for Tyr to pin down, daggers always moving and feet used as much as the daggers, to free himself from getting caught with his shorter reach.  
  
Sif's hand clenched into fists with excitement as Tyr's sword went flying from his hand into the dirt, and Loki's left arm bound Tyr's shield arm. Loki reached for another dagger, but Tyr slammed his hand into Loki's side.   
  
She thought Tyr had hit him with his hand only, to shove him off, and they spun apart from each other. There was something pinning Loki's coat, pinching it inward on his side. Tyr had stabbed him with some sort of small knife.   
  
"Something bothering you, creature?" Tyr taunted.  
  
"This?" Loki pulled the blade out of his side and dropped it to the ground with a sneer. "You think this is going to do anything?"   
  
"You are weak," Tyr returned, hopping backward out of Loki's reach and reacquiring his sword. "You were weak then, you are now."   
  
"I am not the child I was, Tyr. You have no power over me now."   
  
"No?" Tyr rushed in, sword moving swiftly, catching Loki's counter blows on his shield and sending another of his daggers flying. Loki's strikes seemed slowed, especially as Tyr's sword was like lightning. Her worry increased when Tyr used his strength to power through when Loki caught the sword blade on his own smaller one, forcing Loki to have to add his other dagger and arm to halt the strike.   
  
"Watch the shield, watch the shield," she murmured under her breath, because Tyr didn't have another hand, but he did have a shield strapped to his other arm and he was using it both as shield and as bludgeon.   
  
As he did this time, striking a solid blow with it, right into Loki's chest throwing him onto his back in the dirt.   
  
"No!" the scream escaped her lips. "Loki!"   
  
He rolled and was coiled to flip back to his feet, but Tyr leaped the intervening distance to slam both boots against his chest, sending him back into the dirt again. Then he kicked Loki in the head, pulling a cry from the audience, and then his boot landed on Loki's hand. Tyr ground his foot down until Loki cried out. "Let go, beast. Let go of the dagger. Now get up."   
  
Slowly Loki pushed himself up. Something was wrong with him, Sif realized, he was moving as if it was a struggle.  
  
"Ah yes, on your knees, where you belong, creature," Tyr snarled, and his sword blade rested against the side of Loki's neck.   
  
"LOKI!" Thor yelled and started a step towards them, intending to jump the wall and go to his aid. But Sif clutched his bicep in both hands and held him.  
  
"No, don't."  
  
"Sif- I have to-"  
  
"Wait," She urged him, not taking her eyes from Loki down below. She was sick with worry, but still something in her said they couldn't interfere. Not just because of the rules, but because Loki would never forgive them if they didn't give him a chance to finish it. "He's not done, Thor."   
  
It certainly seemed that he was. Loki was on his knees, his right hand hanging limp, two fingers noticeably bent the wrong way. Tyr threw his sword down behind him in the dirt, to grab Loki's hair and pull it back harshly. "Did you forget all your training?" He leaned close and his whisper was barely audible, "Did you crawl into Thor's bed after me? Is that why he defends you? Are you his whore?"  
  
Thor yelled in offended rage, fist tight on Mjolnir's handle. He probably would have thrown the hammer and killed Tyr right there, except… the air grew suddenly chill as if they stood in Jotunheim, not Asgard. Thor's gaze met hers in sudden confusion but also hope.  
  
Tyr didn't notice, kept up his taunting on his helpless prisoner. "How much of your reputation for fucking anything that moves is true? How much is just a … rumor?" His grin widened. "You made it so easy, creature. I barely had to do more than whisper in a few places, to suggest that you were whoring yourself in the taverns." He chuckled once, lowly. "Hell, they even bought the horse story and that one was just a rude jest… "   
  
Sif's mouth dropped open. She'd always thought it was exaggerated but mostly true, that Loki had gone trawling around the city after they'd broken up. She had never thought it could be a malicious rumor spread by his enemy.   
  
Loki's eyes were pale, but vacant, as if all the words had pushed him somewhere deep inside himself. She wasn't sure he heard anything.  
  
Tyr was too pleased with his victory, having Loki kneeling before him, weaponless and his neck bared.  
  
Tyr let go of his hair and wrapped his hand around Loki's throat, shield hand held at his side. Loki didn't seem to be breathing and his eyes closed, as he let Tyr prepare to strangle him or break his neck. Sif held her own breath, wondering what he was waiting for.  
  
"I remember how this throat felt," Tyr murmured with a strange, sick wistful tone. "I'd like to feel it again…"  
  
Loki's eyes flicked open, suddenly scarlet, and he hissed in rage, " _Never_."   
  
He lunged upward, left hand thrusting upward. Something glinted briefly in the light, as he slammed his hand against Tyr's upper abdomen.   
  
The blade emerged through the middle of his back, shining and clear as pure crystal. She gasped -- it was ice. Loki had grabbed his Jotunn power and used it to form a Frost Giant weapon.   
  
Tyr tried to bring around his shield, but the move was too uncoordinated, and Loki blocked it on his shoulder. Loki climbed to his feet, levering himself on the blade he had through Tyr. His face and hands now showed the blue-grey of Jotunn skin, for all to see, and he grinned viciously, showing his teeth when Tyr shrieked in terror.   
  
"You wanted to see, Tyr. Now you do," Loki whispered. "I am done with you and what you made me do."   
  
He left the blade there, impaling Tyr, while he stepped back a pace, as Tyr staggered. "Magic," Tyr accused him hoarsely. "You cheated."  
  
"This isn't seiðr. This is an innate power of  _creatures_." Loki flung the word back in Tyr's face and formed another blade in his hand. "See you in Hel."   
  
So fast Tyr couldn't try to stop him, Loki swept the ice blade in his hand around, clenching his jaw as he mustered all the strength he had left. Sif would never have believed ice would be sharp or hard enough to work, but it did, cleaving Tyr's head from his neck.   
  
The body dropped to the ground, blood spattering, and Loki watched, his face blank, not the gloating Sif might have expected.  
  
The ice halberd dropped from his hand and shattered and Frost Giant skin tone faded back into his usual appearance. Loki blinked the red from his eyes, but otherwise seemed stunned by what he'd done, unmoving.  
  
Thor let out a cheer, joined by the rest of the audience into a thunderous roar. Sif didn't join in, and her eyes met Frigga's across the space between, both feeling the same unease that Loki was so still.  
  
But when she saw him sway, Sif vaulted the railing to drop down to the arena level and rushed to him. "Loki?"   
  
His face was too pale, and his voice was soft, even as he didn't look away from the corpse, "I thought I would feel… something. Pleasure. Relief. Satisfaction. Something. I don't-- I don't feel anything."  
  
"You can feel it later," Sif reassured him and took his unhurt hand in hers. His skin was still cold, even though the air had warmed. "You're in shock. Come away from this place. We need to tend your hand."   
  
He tried to follow her, but his knees folded on the first step and he collapsed. "Loki!" she exclaimed and was too late to catch him as he slammed face-first into the dirt. "Loki!"  
  
She helped him roll over and lifted his torso and head up awkwardly onto her knees. His good hand went to his ribs where he'd been stabbed by the little knife, gasping. "Burns. But clever," he murmured and slumped against her. "Poison. That was why he waited…"   
  
"Oh, ancestors!" She raised her head to shout to Frigga and the king. "He's been poisoned!"   
  
Loki pawed at her with his bloodied hand gracelessly, as if his fingers were numb. "No, Sif… let it... better to let go," he whispered and his eyelids sank shut.  
  
"No! Don't you dare!" She slapped his cheek so his eyes opened again. "Stay with me."   
  
"Why?" he asked.   
  
She knew in that moment only the truth would do, not something to hold back and keep secret. Hadn't they suffered for secrets long enough? She leaned close, her eyes holding his and filling with tears at the thought that Tyr might take him away after all. "Because… because I love you, too. Don't leave me."   
  
His icy fingers trembled against the skin of the back of her hand and his chest was already straining for breath. "But… I always make you cry…"  
  
She grabbed his hand as it fell away from her, lacing his fingers with hers. "Then make me cry for joy… not sorrow… Don't leave me again."  
  
She didn't know if he heard her, as his eyes closed again and slapping his cheek didn't open them this time. The panting breaths faltered into pained wheezes.   
  
"Loki!" Thor threw himself to Loki's other side, arm sliding beneath his shoulders to lift Loki against his chest. "No, no, little brother, you must not let go this time… I have you, don't let go," he pleaded in a whisper, against Loki's hair.  
  
"Thor, pick him up. He needs to go to Eir right away," Frigga ordered and Sif's tear-blurred eyes looked up to find the queen, pale but controlled, standing above them.   
  
Sif reflexively paused for Loki's complaint about being carried by his brother - something he despised, and would rather walk with his innards spilling out if he possibly could. But there was no objection, and little sound at all.  
  
Thor scooped Loki in both arms and Sif helped steady him as he rose to his feet. Loki's head hung backward over one arm, his skin translucent as ice and tightening, so his cheeks turned gaunt. Sif moved his head to rest against Thor's shoulder and held her hand above his face to confirm her fear that he'd stopped breathing.  
  
"Hurry, children," Frigga coaxed. She rested a hand on Loki's forehead, twining some spell about him. "There is little time."  
  
Sif swooped down to pick up the small knife between two fingers, careful not to touch the blade.  
  
They all hurried, Thor nearly running, rushing through the corridors to reach the healer's. Word had already gone ahead of them, and Eir came to meet them with a patient bed.  
  
"Place him here," the healer ordered, and as Thor laid Loki down on it. "Do we know what poison it was?"   
  
"A paralytic," Frigga said.  
  
"With this," Sif held up the knife. "It was on the blade."   
  
"Set it there," Eir told her, indicating a small dish held by an assistant. "We will analyze it. Wait here."   
  
Then, the healing staff and the floating bed passed through the double doors and were gone.  
  
Sif watched the doors a moment longer, hoping Eir would come back and report that it had been a bad jest of Loki's and he was sitting up, perfectly fine after all. But when that didn't happen, she turned her eyes reluctantly away.   
  
Both Frigga and Thor's faces held the same shocked expression, matching what she felt. Loki had won; it was unfair and wrong that Tyr had turned that against him.   
  
"He will be well," Thor declared, his voice sounding too loud in the empty hall.   
  
"Of course," Frigga said hollowly. Her hands were clasped before her, fingers sliding together in a restless anxious gesture. "We will hold onto hope."  
  
Sif had little use for empty hope, though, preferring to face problems head-on. "He wasn't breathing."   
  
"I put him deeply unconscious, to slow the toxin's spread," Frigga told her. She inhaled a shaky breath. "It should give him more time for Eir to identify the poison and administer the antidote."  
  
Which sounded promising, except he had stopped breathing before the queen had touched him. They were hardy people, capable of surviving much, but they could still die.  
  
"He holds his Aesir shape with his innate power," Frigga murmured. "I believe he will shift back at death. So he still lives, Sif. He will return to us."   
  
Since Sif had believed the queen foolishly clinging to hope when Loki had fallen off the Bifrost before and Frigga had been proved right, Sif tried to believe her this time as well. If Loki could cling to life - if he  _wanted_  to cling to life -- she would cling to hope.  
  


* * *

  
  
It was quiet here and beautiful. The grass was waist-high, perfect for his hand to smooth along the top as he walked, and the sky was indigo with a few white puffs of clouds that drifted in the light breeze. Loki saw the land continued to be this same field as far as he could see. There were no trees or distant mountains, only fields of golden grass and blue sky above. That discovery was interesting, but not alarming. It seemed he had to walk, so he did.   
  
He turned to look behind, with the fleeting idea that he had left something there. But there was nothing but the trail he had left through the grass. He should walk forward again. The grass felt pleasant brushing along his palm, and he was content to walk.  
  
The field changed, and he arrived where he was supposed to go. It should have been sudden, since he hadn't noticed it before, but he wasn't surprised. Somehow it had always been there. He didn't question it.  
  
A vast hall towered ahead of him, with windows taller than he was and a peaked roof of gold. Within, he could hear the sounds of a feast - music and the roar of laughter drifting out of the hall.   
  
There were three shallow steps leading up to the massive golden doors that stood open. He climbed them and found a black wolf at the top. The wolf was huge, or Loki was smaller. Was he a boy again? Had he been a boy before? It didn't really matter.  
  
What mattered was that he recognized the wolf was Fenrir, whose muzzle was open with his tongue lolling out in a grin.   
  
"Fenrir!" He threw his arms around Fenrir's neck and hugged him tightly, while Fenrir squirmed and wriggled, huge paws on his chest trying to knock him down. "Oh, Fenrir, I missed you," he whispered.   
  
Fenrir got in a good lick of the entire left side of his face, and his tail beat at Loki's legs with excitement.   
  
Loki sank his fingers into the thick black fur to scratch Fenrir's chest vigorously. "Have you come to take me inside, Fenrir? I think that's where I'm supposed to go."  
  
Hand on the scruff of Fenrir's neck, he started for the doors to enter the hall. But Fenrir jumped around and got in front of Loki. Stopping, Loki tried to go around, but Fenrir moved in front of him to block the way as if this was some sort of game.  
  
"Fenrir, I'm supposed to go in there! We can play later, boy." He scratched Fenrir's ears though his gaze lifted to look inside the doors. Strangely, although the doors were right there, only steps away and stood open, he could barely see what lay on the other side. A golden haze blocked the view, leaving an impression of laughter and song drifting on the air.   
  
Loki realized that he didn't remember what had brought him here, but the gap didn't alarm him. It was… expected. He felt that he should be more frightened, but he wasn't, not with Fenrir here. "I know what this place is, Fenrir. We have all the time in the universe. It'll be you and me for always."   
  
He glanced down at Fenrir. "Do you suppose Laufey's in there? This doesn't seem like a place the Frost Giants would like, but maybe everyone sees something different. Maybe I'm dreaming… Well, I might as well find out. Come on."   
  
He tried to go to the doors but Fenrir got in his way again. He barked and his jaws snapped in front of Loki's face, to make the point that Loki was not to go closer.   
  
Loki stepped back. "You don't want me to go in. You want me to wait."   
  
Fenrir sat down in front of the open door, his eyes alert and determined for any attempt by Loki to try to pass him. It meant something, and Loki was not about to argue with his protector.  
  
Loki smiled and held up his hands, sinking to his knees. "Fine, Fenrir. I'll wait. You let me know when it's time, all right?"   
  
Fenrir licked his face again and lay down across the threshold. Loki scooted back to lean against Fenrir's side. It was comfortable there, feeling Fenrir's chest rise with each breath beneath him. Loki looked out at the golden fields that stretched out to the horizon, and the sight should have felt lonely, but with Fenrir beside him, he felt content.   
  
He smoothed the fur at the top of Fenrir's head and ears, soothing himself. His eyes drifted closed, and he slumped down to curl up against Fenrir's warm, furry bulk.   
  
He could sleep. He was safe.

 

* * *

 

 

tbc... 

 


	16. ASGARD - Aftermath

* * *

To people as long-lived as Aesir, a single hour was no time at all. It should feel the same as one second to a short-lived mortal species. But to Sif the hour dragged as if she stood in some sort of warped time field where time stood still.   
  
The king entered, and needed only to look at them to know. His hand tightened on Gungnir. "There is no word yet?"  
  
Frigga shook her head once. "Only that they had identified the poison as silver adder venom."  
  
Odin's mouth tightened, but he said only, "That is illegal and rare. Where would Tyr acquire it?"  
  
"Unknown, but possibly from Loki's own stores," Frigga answered with a sigh. "It is used in some darker spells, including scrying of the dead. Loki's workroom has been open since he… since the coronation."  
  
The type of poison had been horrifying news. Silver adder venom was a deadly toxin, even - or especially- to Aesir. Sif had learned from childhood to never put her hand into rocky crevices on hot days in the forests, because that was where the silver adder slept.  
  
"I ordered Tyr's second into custody, as he must have brought the poison." Odin looked to the double doors as if he might want to blast them open with Gungnir. "But Loki lives yet. That is a hopeful sign."   
  
Then, as if Odin had summoned her, the double doors parted to allow Eir to pass between. She bent her head on seeing the new arrival. "My king." She folded her hands and reported. "Loki is alive. The venom was not so strong in him as it would have been in a full-blood Aesir. He sleeps now, but he will make a full recovery."   
  
"Oh, thank the ancestors!" Frigga breathed in relief, and grasped for Thor's hand happily. He grinned. Odin's reaction was less dramatic, hand clenching on Gungnir and nodding his head. Sif closed her eyes, letting the worry pass from her.  
  
He would recover. She would have to yell at him for worrying her, but he would be all right.   
  
"May we see him?" Frigga requested.   
  
Eir nodded. "Of course. He is within the recovery room until he wakes and I may assess him for any lingering damage."   
  
_Damage_? Sif's heart suddenly felt in her throat.   
  
Eir reassured them immediately, "All early signs are good."   
  
The family trooped into the recovery room, and saw Loki on the bed. He had a thin blanket drawn up his bare chest, and his injured hand wrapped lightly in white cloth to help it finish healing. His face was still pale, but more normally so, and his eyes were closed. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully.  
  
Sif hung back near the door, to allow his family to approach first. Odin and Thor stood at his bedside, and Frigga went to the other side and clasped Loki's unhurt hand that lay on the coverlet. "My dearest, you have to stay with us…"   
  
He stirred at the sound of her voice, eyes flickering open. He recognized her beside him and opened his mouth, but Frigga set the fingers of her free hand across his lips. "Hush, my son. Rest. All is well."   
  
He closed his eyes but they shot open again and he whispered, "Sif?"  
  
She started, unprepared for him to know she was there, and Frigga gestured for Sif to join her. Closer, Loki's eyes were bloodshot and his brow was tense as if he was in pain. His voice, rough and strained, made her wince sympathetically at the sound. He looked up at her. "So I… stayed."  
  
"Yes, you did," she agreed, smiling, even as her eyes burned with sudden tears.   
  
He rasped, "See… I make you cry…"   
  
He had heard her and remembered. "With joy, you idiot," she told him and bent down, both to hide her eyes and to put her lips on his and quiet him.   
  
She meant the kiss to be quick, but once they were touching she couldn't help but press herself into it, her hands framing his face to hold him to her. Then she pulled back a tiny bit to look into his eyes. "Never, ever leave me again. Promise me."  
  
"Never is a long time. Sure you're ready for that?" he teased hoarsely. But his fingers toying with the ends of her hair falling across his hand said something else.   
  
"Promise me," she insisted.  
  
"You left me first."   
  
"You  _died_  on me!" she retorted, incensed at the implication that anything she'd done was at all comparable. "And then you almost did it again." She threw one hand up in the air in a wild gesture at the infirmary walls where he'd nearly died again.  
  
Dryly Thor asked from the other side of the bed, "Mother, can I make them kiss again, before they argue themselves apart?"   
  
"No, dear. We will leave them be." She swooped in and kissed Loki's brow, smoothing it with her fingers after. "Rest, my son. I'm glad you're awake and with us again. Eir will move you to your quarters soon as soon as you're better."   
  
Thor stepped forward to grip Loki's shoulder. "Brother."  
  
"You still on about that?" Loki asked with a weary smile.   
  
"Always."  
  
Loki's eyes met his, and maybe it was because he had almost died, or because he was still exhausted from it, but he said to Thor, "I am sorry. I --"  
  
Thor's hand tightened, silencing the difficult words. "Hush. No need. I am sorry, too."  
  
Loki's eyelids sagged before he forced them open again, and Frigga saw, ordering, "Out."  
  
She took Odin's arm, but before she make him go, the king said to Loki, "I am pleased by your victory, Loki."  
  
His eyes opened about half-way to find Odin's face, surprised that the king had said anything at all, but then the queen was ushering husband and son out of the room.  
  
Sif watched them go, pleased she'd been allowed to stay. But when she returned her gaze to Loki's face, his eyes were closed again. She sat on the edge of the bed to watch his chest rise and fall with gentle breaths. But he wasn't asleep, as he smiled. "You're watching me."   
  
"Trying to decide whether I should slap you for being so reckless or I should wait until you're better."   
  
His eyes opened, and the little smile widened. "I vote wait. I'm sure to do something else you'll disapprove of." The mischievous look on his face was familiar, shining through the tiredness and the faint frown and creases at the corner of his eyes.   
  
"How do you feel?" she asked, worried since he seemed to still be in pain.   
  
He didn't answer immediately, patting the space beside him. Sif stretched out and put her head on his shoulder, an arm across him, as if to keep him there, though he seemed to have no inclination to move.   
  
"Alive," he answered, but it was a more thoughtful answer than the sarcastic response it might have been. "Tired, everything aches, but alive. And…." He trailed off and she prompted, curious what he might answer as he seemed to be in a somber mood.  
  
"And?"  
  
"I dreamed of Fenrir," he answered, looking up at the ceiling. "I haven't dreamed of him in such a long time, but this one remains vivid. I was a child again and I wanted to go into an immense hall, but Fenrir sat in the doorway and wouldn't let me pass. I curled up against him and I fell asleep," he murmured. "Such a child's dream."   
  
She kissed his shoulder to hide the wet heat in her eyes. "I'm glad you found him again."   
  
_He was keeping you from passing through the door to Valhalla. I will have to drop the biggest bone I can find into the river to send in thanks for saving you_.   
  
"You felt safe because you won, Loki." She caressed his shoulder and arm, fingers sliding across his soft skin, with some disbelief that he was still here, after all. "Despite everything, you fought and you avenged what was done to you, and he's dead. He cannot harm you ever again."   
  
His fingers tangled in her hair. "Not that you would let him."   
  
She smiled into his skin. "I shall protect my sorcerer prince with my blade and my shield, and every breath in my body. But you need to stop throwing yourself into single combat with your enemies…" she chided, but when she got no response, she lifted up her head. His eyes were closed, and his lips were slightly parted for soft, steady breaths. He was asleep.  
  
Her smile widened with affection and she laid her head on his chest, to listen to the soothing beat of his heart.   
  
Now, at last, they were both home.   


* * *

  
  
His sleep was peaceful enough that when wakefulness beckoned he tried to stay asleep. Yet, his body seemed insistent that he wake up - the poison-caused ache in his muscles was turning uncomfortable, and tugging him to consciousness. He moved his hands before he opened his eyes, touching the familiar softness of his own bed. They'd moved him from the infirmary back to his own room. And Sif was gone. With weary reluctance, he opened his eyes.  
  
Odin was standing beside the bed, watching him. Loki shut his eyes tightly and opened them again, to make sure he wasn't dreaming. No, Odin was still there.  
  
Loki tensed, waiting for the disappointment and anger that Loki had done something so reckless and disobedient, again. Because, of everything that Loki had sensed in Odin's mind, the disappointment had been probably the worst to feel. He wanted to protest that he hadn't intended any of it, but that wasn't really true, was it? And it didn't matter anyway.  
  
When Odin saw that Loki was aware and watching him, he said, "I am pleased to see you awake. How do you feel?"   
  
The truth was that he felt exhausted still, despite how much he'd slept, and moving anything caused it to ache sharply including his chest when he breathed, but he answered, "Better."  
  
Odin nodded, accepting the answer though Loki wasn't sure he believed it, and he asked softly, "Why did you not wait to hear the sentence?"  
  
Loki looked away from him, turning his eyes to the ceiling. It hurt his throat to talk. "I knew you were going to let him live."  
  
Odin shook his head once, sadly. "No, Loki. I had no intention of allowing that viper to live. He betrayed us both, not once, but without surcease. His harm was incalculable, not only to you, but to the Realm."  
  
Loki blinked in shock. "But… Truly? You were going to execute him?"  
  
"I was. I cannot blame you for your distrust of my decision, or your rage at him, but I wish you had waited and not risked yourself. Why did you decide that he had to die, when you'd let him live all this time? What changed?" Odin asked.  
  
"I thought… Mother said she would put him under geas so he could never tell the secrets, so I thought she knew your intent. I realized I was so tired of the lies." The bitterness welled up within, yet he chuckled once, recognizing the irony in his words that Loki the Liesmith should be sick of lies. "Sif said they are a trap, and she was right. This way, the truth is in the open, and no one can hold the secrets against me again." Maybe if he'd thought it through, he wouldn't have challenged Tyr and revealed himself, but he hadn't been able to bear the thought that Tyr would walk away. There was no taking back any of it now. "I wanted more, and I fought against the truth, but… to what end? To rule and be hated? Now at least they can hate me for the truth. You were right; I have no birthright, and it was a fool's desperation that made me believe I did."  
  
When Odin answered, his voice was a little hoarse. "You do not know how much it pains me to hear you say that, because I was not right." Odin moved close beside the bed, and when Loki looked at his face, it was to see a very unfamiliar look of sadness upon it. "Your birthright should have been no less than every child's in all the Realms -- to grow to maturity in safety with the assurance that you are loved. That was what I thought you lacked when I found you on Jotunheim and what I intended to give you. But I was wrong, Loki, about so much, not the least in what I thought you lacked. From Tyr I found out the start - he found you from where you had been hidden as an infant. He was the one to move you to that altar where I found you later."  
  
Loki frowned at him, not understanding what Odin was telling him. Odin inhaled and explained, "Tyr was the one to leave you to die, hoping no doubt that Laufey would come upon you too late. As it was, Laufey hated Asgard because he believed we had murdered you. If chance had not led me past that altar to find you there, it would have been true. As it was, I was mistaken about the Jotunn, believing Laufey a monster. But it was my own warrior who was the greater monster by far." He shook his head slowly, sorrowfully. "There might have been better peace if not for Tyr's hate."   
  
Loki blinked, and tried to draw breath but it tangled in his chest, as tangled as his thoughts and feelings were. "He - Laufey - he didn't--?"   
  
"No. He never abandoned you and left you to die, Loki."  
  
This was too much. He had to grope for understanding.  
  
Laufey had wanted him. Had missed him. Had been angry at Asgard for killing him. Which meant he had cared. That knowledge roused a warmth in Loki's heart, easing a hole that had formed when he'd learned his blood father had cast him aside, unwanted. But that warmth burnt out soon, leaving ice in its wake. He had killed Laufey for no reason at all. He had been angry and full of hate, determined to prove his loyalty and to kill the monster who had abandoned him to die, and none of that was true. He felt hollow inside, bereft, and he looked up at Odin's face as if Odin could absolve him of this new horror. "I murdered him," he whispered. "For nothing."  
  
"If he had killed me instead, it would be no less based on a mistaken belief," Odin said, perhaps meaning to console, though Loki found none. "Tyr spread his poison to you and to me, and Laufey was not the only one to suffer. But in the end, Loki, it is not your failure, but mine. I am the king and I am your father, and I failed at both."   
  
The blunt, honest acknowledgment startled Loki, and Odin nodded once, full beard rustling, and he sighed. "It grieves me beyond words, to share your memories. Not only what you suffered at Tyr's hands, but at mine. To see myself through your eyes, to hear my own words again as I belittled and dismissed your hurts, when I should have stopped it at once…. I cannot imagine a time I will not have deep regrets."  
  
For a moment the silence weighed on them both, and Loki felt that Odin expected something from him. But Loki had no energy to do whatever it was. "What do you want me to say? I forgive you?"  
  
"Someday, yes, I hope for it. But not today. Today I tell you that I know you paid for my mistakes, when you should not have. I did not pay attention as much as I should have, lacking understanding. But I did - and I do - care. You are my son. That truth overcomes all others. So do not fear for your place; it awaits you."   
  
"The Frost Giant monster prince? That's going to go over well, at court --"   
  
Odin's raised hand silenced Loki's sarcastic words and broken laugh. "No, stop. That I will not abide, Loki --'monster' and 'creature' and similar words of such hatred and pain. They are not you. You are a prince, as my son, and also a prince of Jotunheim, if not acknowledged as such. And if you wish to reject both, still you are a prince, because you are the son of a queen. And she will not let you disclaim her." His good eye looked at Loki with affection and sorrow. "I will not say it will all be easy, you would see the lie in that, but I believe the truth will not be as difficult as we both feared. I have heard many good and understanding words about you of late; you need not fear that only hate awaits you. But what I fear, more than anything --" Odin inhaled a deep breath to add more quietly, "Loki, twice now, I have watched you hurl yourself at death when you believed there was nothing else left for you. My son, suicide is not ever the answer. The universe would be a poor place without you in it."   
  
Loki's throat quivered, and at first the words couldn't get past the sudden lump in his throat. His eyes stung. "Even after all I did?" he whispered.   
  
"But what of the good you might do?" Odin countered. "There is more to life than death. Thousands of years remain to you, Loki, and your potential has always been extraordinary. If you choose to use that well, who knows what wonders you will accomplish?"   
  
Beyond astonishment now, Loki stared and his lips shaped "wonders" silently. Something cracked inside, spilling something hot and molten so he couldn't breathe. Overwhelmed he turned and buried his face in the pillow. He kept back the tears, forcing them from his eyes, holding his breath until he had to gasp. No, he was not going to cry like this in front of Odin…  
  
Odin's weight settled on the edge of the bed, and Loki thought,  _He won't, he never touches me, he won't, he hates what I am, I don't want him to touch me anyway, I don't_ \--   
  
A hand settled on his shoulder, before rubbing his back as Loki remembered from a time he'd been very small. The warm and gentle touch let Loki to loosen his clutch on the pillow, though he didn't want to move more than that, in case Odin took it as Loki not wanting the touch.  
  
"Yes, wonders," Odin confirmed softly. "To heal and help. To be a better person and build a better Realm."  
  
Loki shook his head. "Why would you do this?" he demanded, voice rough with anguish. "Hold out hope when you know there's only one fate for me…"   
  
"I know the opposite, Loki. We are not gods, forced by fate to roles and fixed paths; those are tales, not truth. Whatever wisdom we possess comes from living long and learning from our mistakes. As I will learn from mine." His fingers smoothed Loki's hair back at his temple, coaxing him to turn again to look at him. "Your blood does not doom you to evil, any more than Tyr's blood made him good. You choose. Our fate is the path we make from our actions, but we re-make it every day anew. We both have a chance to do better."  
  
Loki wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe it so badly, but how could he? He was broken and tainted and weak, and he didn't know if he could hold on. He would slip and fall, and it would all be ruined again…   
  
Odin read Loki's doubts in his face and stroked his beard with his other hand, searching for words, then he told a story. "There is a rare flower on Jotunheim. A hardy little thing that pushes its way up through the snow, and it blooms as soon as the clouds part in their earliest spring. It grows, despite blizzards and frost, and then summer comes and the sun shines in brief dazzling flashes. Then this bold little plant explodes into a cloud of tiny berries that are the best fruit in the entire Nine Realms. It clings to light and warmth, it perseveres, and in the end, it flourishes."   
  
Loki swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. But Odin didn't seem to need a response as he patted the back of Loki's hand and stood up. "Rest, my son. Ponder what you wish to do, and who you wish to be, and be assured we are here for you."   
  
He nodded to Loki and slipped out the door.  
  
Loki watched him go, uncertainty still a stain within, but he felt heartened, too. Stronger.   
  
As if the clouds had finally cleared and the sun was shining for the first time, after a very long winter. 

 

* * *

 

 

_...  epilogue follows ..._


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are at the end at last. thank you for reading all this way, I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> ETA: I did a little meta post at my Tumblr about the story, if you're interested in [ commentary. here](http://lizardbeths.tumblr.com/post/107435269920/thelightofthingshopedfor-replied-to-your-post-fic)

* * *

 

"No, this is a terrible idea. Nobody wants--"

Sif put her fingers across Loki's mouth, silencing his objections. "The king wants."  
  
"I don't," he muttered and turned away, folding his arms in sullen rejection. She smiled and shook her head.   
  
A week after the duel, Loki had recovered from the poison, but not entirely from everything else that had happened. He'd kept to his rooms, feigning a continued weakness out of reluctance to be seen.   
  
"You don't need to be afraid," she murmured, getting to the heart of his problem.  
  
"I'm not afraid!" But the protest was hollow, when he followed that by saying, "But everyone knows now. They know I'm a-- a fraud. That it's been a lie all along."  
  
She held back a sigh, trying to hold onto her patience. "It's not a lie, Loki. That's the point of what the king wants to do. What will it take to get it into your skull that you're their son?"   
  
"I do understand they feel that way. I believe it," he added hastily, trying to cut off an objection she hadn't made yet. "But why would anyone else believe it? They  _saw_ , Sif. Everyone saw the truth."  
  
"First of all, even people who were there have said they thought it was an illusion. So not everyone believes it," she corrected. "Second, of those people who do believe that you have Jotunn blood, do you seriously think they're going to align themselves with someone who did such terrible things? No one thinks Tyr was  _right_ , Loki. No one." He looked away and his fists clenched; she softened her voice. "That's the worst part, isn't it?" she realized. "Everyone knows that truth, too."   
  
He admitted, his voice scarcely audible, hands now around himself in a defensive, hunched posture. "I thought-- well, no, I didn't think at all. But now I see that knowledge in their eyes, it makes me want to be sick. Or disappear somewhere people don't know. I hate that they know."  
  
She supposed that was an improvement over wanting to throw himself off the edge of the Bifrost, so she reached up to smooth his hair. "Don't disappear. Please."   
  
He freed a hand to touch the pendant at her neck, which she hadn't taken off since the duel. "I did promise to stay." She was not such a fool that she believed him wholly. He would keep that promise only until he felt he couldn't, but she hoped as the cracks mended and he trusted her love, then he would be bound by his heart, not merely a flimsy promise of words. He suddenly smiled. "And I promised you matching earrings."   
  
"I'm still waiting for those," she teased and kissed his lips, folding her hand around his. "Come on, my prince. I'll hold your hand in front the entire court, and that way no one will dare say anything. Or I will stab them in the face." He laughed a little, and that was enough.  
  
It turned out she didn't need to hold his hand in the Great Hall. But in a slightly more subtle gesture, Sif moved to the opposite side of the aisle to stand closest to Loki's usual place on the dais, and nobody missed that change. But she had revealed her own secret when she'd leaped over the rail of the arena to go to Loki, so it was no surprise.   
  
Everyone waited for Thor and Loki to proceed down the aisle. The plan had been for them to go separately, but instead they came together. Both king and queen smiled to see them, walking side by side, and the look on Thor's face dared anyone to speak against his brother. Loki ignored everyone with a determined set to his jaw, and looked tense enough that he seemed to expect someone to say something cruel. But the silence was heavy and unbroken as they approached.  
  
Odin came down from his throne two steps to stand above them when they stopped at the end of the aisle and knelt together. "I wish to make it perfectly clear," he announced. "I have two sons. I have Thor Odinson and Loki Odinson. Offending either insults my house and this throne. And it will not be tolerated." His eye looked down at Loki and he added, "Together we will wash away the poisonous hatred spread by the traitor Tyr, and Asgard will stand again as the beacon of truth and of hope that it was meant to be." With his free hand he gestured Thor to stand to his left and then offered that hand to Loki to bring him to his right, deliberately keeping that hand on Loki's shoulder. He hefted Gungnir and declared loudly, "Justice has been served at long last, and we praise Prince Loki for slaying the traitor in single combat."  
  
Thor shouted, raising Mjolnir high. "All praise!"   
  
And the hall echoed, bellowing it back, "All praise!"  
  
Loki's eyes widened in genuine shock and his gaze flew to Sif, as she pulled her dagger and lifted it over her head. She grinned back at him, enjoying his consternation, as his eyes ran from her to his brother and out to the audience, where there was the clang of weapons on shields, stomping of boots, and shouts of acclaim that echoed from the high ceiling into a clamor and roar of approval.  
  
He stared out at the gathered crowd in disbelief of what he was hearing. Maybe some of it was the crowd getting carried by the enthusiasm and an unwillingness to publicly display any doubt, but she was grateful nonetheless for this moment.   
  
Loki's smile was tentative, as if he was afraid any appreciation might show it was an illusion, but the smile was genuine. Best of all, he stopped looking as if he was braced for someone to try to murder him. She hoped that at least one crack was beginning to heal.   
  


* * *

  
  
Sif stood next to Loki on the terrace, when a heavy tread on the tile behind them warned her they had company. Loki had retreated after the ceremony, intending to go back to his room until she'd diverted him to the western small hall with the promise of the sunset on the water. He was pulling threads of the sunlight and spinning them back out as little glowing balls drifting back across the city until they faded like dying embers. He concentrated on the working, and she leaned against his other side, her head on his shoulder, watching his little show.  
  
She turned her head to see Thor, escorting the Warriors Three. The last time they had all been together had been that ill-fated trip to Jotunheim. She wished they had waited a little longer, or Thor had refused to bring them to interrupt Loki's peace.  
  
She intended to send them away, but Loki put a hand on hers to keep her beside him. "Let them come. It's all right."   
  
She checked his expression, and he seemed resigned to this confrontation, sending out the last tiny ball of light.  
  
"Loki, our friends wished to speak to you," Thor introduced.   
  
She felt Loki tense, and could practically hear the 'your friends not mine' before Loki deliberately relaxed and turned around, finding a smile. "What is it?"   
  
Volstagg took a step nearer. "I wished-- to say," he started. "Imagining such a thing happening to my own children makes my blood boil, and my heart crack with grief." He seized Loki around the shoulders to pull him into a rough hug. "I am so-- if I had known, I would have buried my axe in his head for you."   
  
Looking desperately uncomfortable, Loki patted Volstagg's back as best he could with both arms trapped by Volstagg's embrace. "Thank you. It was long ago, Volstagg. There is no need for this."   
  
"Not so long ago," Fandral said. "He spread such vile rumors, that even when I did not believe the worst of them, I believed some. And now I know they were lies. I am sorry, Loki. We are all sorry." At his side Hogun nodded his agreement.  
  
Loki pushed free of Volstagg, just when Sif was thinking she'd have to intervene. He forced a laugh. "Well, I'd like to put all the fault on him, but that would be a lie as well. If you want to help, I'd rather we all put this in the past where it belongs. I will see you at the feast." He gave them a polite nod and walked away, passing behind a column and not emerging, casting some invisibility or transport spell to vanish.  
  
Sif tried to smile at her friends. "Give him some time," she advised quietly. "There's much for him to sort out."   
  
"But not you, hm?" Fandral teased. "That Frost Giant look was real, wasn't it? You don't mind?"  
  
Very aware that Loki might still be able to hear them, even if he'd disappeared, she laughed. "Mind? Fandral, if I could make him show me all the time, I would. It's…." Searching for the right word, her humor died away and she answered more honestly, "It's  _beautiful_ , is what it is. And it hurts me that he sees it as something disgusting. It's not right."   
  
Thor's hand closed on her shoulder in a gentle support. "We see him, Sif, and now we must help him see himself."  
  
The Warriors Three nodded in somber agreement, which Sif was glad to see. They wanted to stand with Loki, and hopefully, in time, Loki would let them.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Frigga stopped in the doorway of Loki's sitting room. Sif was down in the courtyard, practicing her sword-forms, while Loki was lounging on the couch, a book on his lap as though he'd been reading. But he was holding a flame in his palm and scrying into it, watching Sif with a contented smile she'd seen so rarely.   
  
He could have joined her or watched in person, but he remained reluctant to be around people. A fortnight ago, he'd made an appearance at the feast at his honor, smiling and jesting as if all was well, seeming pleased by the earlier acclaim. But there had also been an epidemic of spilled wine and dishes falling to the floor, distracting people from approaching him. It had been one of his more subtle manipulations, and she would have been impressed if it hadn't been to the end of isolating himself.  
  
His hiding reminded Frigga of those days after Fenrir's death, when he had learned all the wrong lessons of how to handle his anger and grief. But she didn't think that pushing him out into the public was the answer either.  
  
Frigga felt a familiar tug of regret and pain at the sight of him, knowing that feeling would linger every day as long as she lived. But she pushed it aside, hoping that she had found a key to help him. She let her step make noise. "Loki."   
  
He turned, smile widening at her voice, and closed his hand to extinguish the flame. "Mother!" He stood and started toward her. "What brings you -" He started to say, and then his voice and step halted, as he saw what she was holding in her arms. "What is that?" he asked in a faint voice.  
  
Frigga explained, "They brought the pup to me. He's only a few weeks old, and been lost from his den. I told them I knew someone who could take care of him."   
  
She turned the wolf pup in her arms so Loki could see, as he squirmed trying to stay near her warmth. He had fluffy fur, dark grey on the top and white on the belly, a rotund little body and big paws. His yellow eyes were open, but he was still young enough to look more like a tiny bear than a wolf.   
  
"I--" Loki started, gaze frozen on the pup, and then he spun away. "No. I cannot, I-- No."   
  
"I will find another home if you truly don't want him," she murmured, "but now I know we took Fenrir from you unjustly. He was trying to protect you."  _As I did not_. She didn't say that though - Loki had already forgiven her, and she knew to keep putting her own pain onto him was not helpful. This was about the pup and Loki, and praying that another chance might help him heal. She added, "I know nothing can ever bring him back or undo the wrong we did by taking him away. But this one appeared at the animal healers, and I thought - I hoped - that it was a sign. That in some way he had come back to you, and you might want another friend again." She set the pup on the floor. His gait was wobbly as he went straight for Loki's boots to chew on the toes.  
  
"No, get off." He pulled back his foot, and the pup, unbalanced and startled, fell over with a little squeak. "My, you are a clumsy thing." Kneeling, he held out a hand to set the pup upright again, and froze as his fingers touched the fur. He stopped breathing, and for a moment, as he looked at the pup, tears filled his eyes. It seemed they might fall, but he pulled in a ragged breath and blinked them back. He rubbed at the fur, as the pup squirmed and tried to find his fingers either to bite or lick them. "No, you may not bite me, no, stop it -" But despite the complaints, he kept his hand in the pup's reach, letting him try to catch his fingers.  
  
"Oh, very well." Loki heaved a sigh, pretending to reluctance as he gave in and gathered the pup into his arms, against his chest. The pup licked his face and Loki wrinkled his nose. "That is vile, you need to stop that." But despite his words, his fingers never stopped stroking the little furry body. The pup yipped in excitement, as if he knew he'd found his home.  
  
Loki looked up at her, cradling the pup, and it was as if all the years in between had faded away and there was her boy with Fenrir again, before any of the terrible things had happened. She bent down to kiss his forehead and smiled at him, trying not to let the sadness touch her face, even though she wished desperately she could go back and make everything right again. "I'll tell them the pup's in good hands and have them send up his things."   
  
She only got two steps before Loki called in a hoarse voice, "Mother?" She looked back. "Thank you." He was looking down at the pup, his hand making soft soothing caresses into the soft fur, more for his benefit than the pup's.  
  
She wanted to say that he should never thank her for anything, that she was the one who owed him and always would, that she was so very sorry for everything she had failed to do. But she said instead, "You know he is one of the great winter wolves, too? He will stand to your waist when full grown and terrorize everyone just by showing his teeth." The pup was anything but a terror as his yellow eyes shut and he fell asleep, with his muzzle resting on Loki's arm.  
  
"Excellent." Loki grinned. "We shall be very good friends."   
  
"Oh dear." She laughed and shook her head. She knew the trouble they'd gotten into when he'd been young, she shuddered to think what he could do now. Hopefully Sif would manage to keep them from doing anything too foolish, but if the new pup helped Loki, it would be a risk worth taking.  
  
At the door, she glanced back, to find Loki had not moved from where he sat on the floor. Hands cradling the wolf pup, he hunched over the furry little body. And if tears were slipping unchecked down his cheeks in silence… well, no one would ever know it from her.  
  
She pulled the door closed and left Loki with his new friend.  
  


  
 _the end._


End file.
